He Said, She Said
by Magical Me6666
Summary: Faith and Bosco have a 'discussion' about what each other's faults are. Rated for swearing. Song is from Missy Higgens and is called 'Ten Days' Please R & R
1. What I See In You

_So we've put an end to it this time. _

_I'm no longer yours and you're no longer mine._

"Maybe we should just forget the whole thing!" I shout angrily. She turns sharply on her heel and throws me a withering glance. I stare at her eagerly awaiting her response. Her blue eyes pierce through me as she considers her reaction, her blonde hair sweeps across her face in the light breeze and she tucks the untamed strands behind her ear.

"Screw you Bosco," she whispers gesturing her hand wildly in my face.

"Right back at ya Faith," I retort stepping forward. She turns to walk away but obviously reconsiders and is back at me again.

_You said this hill looks far too steep _

_If I'm not even sure it's me you wanna keep. _

_And it's been ten days without you in my reach, _

_And the only time I've touched you is in my sleep._

"You know what your problem is?" she spits out. I fold my arms and slouch backwards.

"No, but I bet you're gonna tell me…"

"You can't let go of the past! You constantly drag it up as a way of reminding everybody what a shit life you've had! Well all our lives have been shit Bosco but we don't dump it on everyone else!" she screams poking her finger into my shoulder. I wince and sub-consciously rub the spot she just hurt.

"I thought I was talking to a friend! Not dumping my shit on her! Jesus knows how many 'Charlie this' 'Emily that' or 'Fred did this' I've heard throughout our partnership!" I bark, running a hand through my tussled hair. She shakes her head and bites on the soft skin of her lip.

"I never knew that it pissed you off so much," she says bitterly.

"Well it did! I was your partner, not your flippin' child psychologist or marriage counsellor!"

"And how many stories did I have to listen to about all your different girlfriends or should I say victims? Wasn't exactly all fun for me Bos ya know?" she says giving me a wry smile.

_But time has changed nothing at all - _

_You're still the only one that feels like home. _

_I've tried cutting the ropes and _

_I let you go but you're still the only one _

_That feels like home._

"Hey my stories were the best action you got! As I recall Fred wasn't exactly putting out in that department!" I yell. Wrong thing to say. I feel a sharp pain as her hand connects with my cheek. I step back and examine her. Her black suit jacket hangs open carelessly, revealing a white lace top underneath which meets her light blue jeans at the hips. I look back at her face. Her lips are now pouted and her eyes squinted.

"How dare you!" she hisses into my face, "You have no right…"

"You were the one that started this thing! You suggested we should be honest and talk or yell as it turns out! Don't back out now Faith," I challenge her. She lets out what can be conceived as breathy chuckle, turns, shuffles her feet off the locker room floor and turns back to me.

_You won't talk me into it next time, _

_If I'm going away your hearts coming too. _

_'Cos I miss your hands I miss your face. _

_When I get back let's disappear without a trace._

"You want honesty Bosco well I'm gonna give you honesty! You come in here everyday acting like you're God's gift! You love yourself so much it's sickening! I mean what age are you? Not every woman in this damn world wants you! You think the world owes you somethin' 'cause you had a crap childhood! Well it doesn't! And neither do I! I wish you hadn't have saved me in the hospital! At least then I wouldn't have to live with you holding it over me everyday for the rest of my life!" She finishes a little breathlessly, her wild gesturing now subsiding to little movements of anger and frustration as we stand in silence.

_'Cos it's been ten days without you in my reach, _

_And the only time I've touched you is in my sleep._

"You done?" I ask placing my hands on my hips. She licks her lips and stares at me.

"You're not exactly perfect either Faith ya know? Everyday you have something to moan about. You moan about having a family, you moan about not havin' a family, you moan about the weather – lets face it. It's like you're constantly PMS girl or somethin'…" I mumble, "And you don't realise how lucky you are to have all those things. To be able to have all those things. You moan about your figure and your looks when truth be told you're one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. You say that no one ever looks at you anymore when they do! I should no I…I've seen them looking. You're just oblivious to it. And now you complain about being alive! Faith, don't you think it's time you give up with the moaning and groaning about living and just…live?"

_But time has changed nothing at all - _

_You're still the only one that feels like home. _

_I've tried cutting the ropes, _

_Tried letting go but you're still the only one _

_That feels like home._

She gazes back at me, her eyes glazing over. She not exactly looking at me anymore, she's almost looking through me. "Stop destroying yourself Faith. Stop killing whatever life you have left," I whisper. She cuts her eyes back to mine.

"You think I'm beautiful?" she chokes out hoarsely. I shake my heading, blinking several times.

"I…I…" I stutter unable to answer her surprisingly direct question.

_So tell me, did you really think... _

_Oh tell me, did you really think _

_I had gone when you couldn't see me anymore? _

_When you couldn't..._

"Hey guys, what's up?" Ty asks trudging his way into the locker rooms. I turn to him thankful for his interruption. Faith's gaze just falls to the floor.

"Not much Ty, you?" I ask glancing back at her nervously. She looks up catching my eye and I gulp maybe a little too hard because a lump gets stuck in my throat.

"The streets were dead today. Maybe you might have better luck Bos," he replies shrugging out of his jacket. I clear my throat and mumble a 'maybe'. He notices Faith and her rather dejected mannerisms.

_'Cos baby time has changed nothing at all - _

_You're still the only one that feels like home. _

_And I've tried cutting the ropes, _

_I let you go but you're still the only one _

_That feels like home, yeah._

"You a'right Faith?" he asks with a concerned tone. She nods and forces a smile.

"Fine, yeah…"

"How's detective life treatin' ya?" he smirks. She nods again obviously finding it difficult to recover after our heated argument. Or the comment I made.

"I have to go. I'll see you guys later?" she says rushing out the door.

"Faith…" I call out a little helplessly. The locker room door slams shut and she's gone. I look back at Ty and he frowns.

"What'd you do man?" he asks, his tone convicting. I shrug.

"I honestly don't know."

_You're still the only one that feels like home, _

_You're still the only one I've gotta love. _

_Oh yeah..._


	2. Sleeps With Butterflies

**The song is by Tori Amos and is called 'Sleeps With Butterflies'. I'll rate this part R because of swearing.**

_**Airplanes take you away again  
**__**Are you flying above where we live?**_

I hear him follow me out into the foyer of the police department building. He's hot on my heel and there's little I can do to escape him.

"Faith wait!" I hear him call. He's startlingly close and I sprint to the doors. I urgently clutch the handle but it slips free from my sweaty grasp. I let out a low yelp out of sheer desperation and try again. This time the door opens, but only slightly. Bosco comes up behind me, slamming it shut with the power of one of his muscular arms, trapping me against the wooden frame. I feel the wall of his chest press against my back and I look up to where his hand keeps the door firmly shut. I'm sure people are watching this display – if I were them I'd watch. I steal a glance over my shoulder to confirm my suspicions.

And I'm right. They all stare at us. Even Lieu stands at the front desk, phone pressed against his ear, his jaw hanging open.

Suddenly Bosco's closeness is too much to take and I back up sending him stumbling towards the desk. I must have knocked into him hard because he lets out a grunt and I sigh as the door opens and I escape into the clammy air of a very hot day in New York City.

_**Then I look up a glare in my eyes  
**__**Are you having regrets about last night?**_

"Faith…" I hear Bosco say again. His voice is low and menacing and I turn slowly to face him.

"What?" I grit through clenched teeth.

"Why do you always have to cause a scene?" he breathes. I let out an exasperated sigh and run my fingers through the roots of my fair hair.

"Me?" I cry out, "You….you followed me out here…you forced me to that in there…"

"Bullshit Faith!" he yells, "You love the fights. You love the drama!"

"You think I like all this?" I gasp, frowning. He laughs.

"Yeah I do!"

"What's this about Bosco?" I ask. My question catches him off guard and he backs up a little, his hands falling to his sides.

"What do you mean?" he replies, gazing at the ground.

"Why are we arguing? I mean…what the hell is goin' on here?" I say, breathing heavily. He cuts his eyes to mine and stares at me.

_What do you want from me?_

"I don't understand…" he mumbles. My jaw drops open ready to remind him of how this conversation started but I bite down on my tongue, taking a hard gulp.

_I don't know what I want from you! Maybe something you can't give!_

"Come on Bosco, your memory's bad, not that bad," I argue gently giving a faint smile. He shakes his head vehemently.

"Hell if I know how this started Faith…oh no wait. It started with you refusing to help me _or_ believe in me!" he retorts.

_What are you talking about?_

"Bosco stop," I say softly. He looks more agitated now, pacing from left to right. "Just…stop."

He turns suddenly and catches my gaze.

There's a look in his eyes that I know all to well. I've seen it a dozen times before. He hangs his head to the right, places his left hand on his hip, and just looks at me. And I know there's something behind it. I know there's something _in _it. But even after twelve years, I _still_ can't put a name on it.

_**I'm not but I like rivers that rush in  
**__**So then I dove in  
**__**Is there trouble ahead for you the acrobat?  
**__**I won't push you unless you have a net**_

It's really hard to even describe. He's just looking at me I know, but it's like that I'm the only person he's seeing. There's no one else around even in a crowded street where both friends and foes walk by.

"Faith…" he utters my name, licking his dry lips. My eyes focus on them and I feel a blush creep up my neck and across my cheeks. And it's in that moment I realise why it had started. Why we constantly fight. Why we feel the need to tear shreds out of each other. Because if we're not fighting, if we're not screamin' and yellin' then what do we do? The opposite of fighting is too scary to even contemplate.

Bosco and I knew getting into this partnership we'd never have a happy medium. We'd either be killin' each other or… Well we've actually never been the other way. As soon as we make up somethin' or someone comes along and knocks us two steps back again. We've never actually gotten close. Never actually shown each other real affection. With the exception of 9/11. And even then the closeness was a little too…personal. We're both examples of extreme people. We can never be 'middle of the road'. We need the conflict and tension to move us on. It's what keeps us who we are…Bosco and Faith. And it's as he says my name in one breathy whisper I realise it. After all this time…

_**You say the word  
**__**You know I will find you**_  
_**Or if you need some time I don't mind  
**__**I don't hold on to the tail of your kite**_

I'm talking about us Faith…me and you…we can't keep going on like this…

I feel my breath hitch and a dry lump forms in the back of my throat. He's standing just metres away from me and yet right now, it feels like we're worlds apart.

"Don't make me say it," he begs his eyes welling with tears. Tears! Bosco! Even now it's hard to believe that this wiseass, Italian charmer who has - _had _– the maturity of a twelve year old actually knows how to cry. I mean genuinely cry. And yet here he stands in front of me ready to bear his soul and heart. To be able to put your heart out like that and trust that someone will put it back together is unbelievable. More unbelievable than the fact he's choosing to perform this act of honesty and sincerity with me. Why me? _Why me? _

_Going on like what Bosco? We were fine! What's wrong with us? _

"Bos…" I say, instinctively reaching out for him. He stares at my hand as I hold it out, my fingers shaking out of sheer trepidation and the paranoia associated with bearing your soul to someone through the perfectly innocent act of touching. Of connecting.

I'm not like the girls that you've known 

_**But I believe I'm worth coming home to  
**__**Kiss away night  
**__**This girl only sleeps with butterflies  
**__**With butterflies  
**__**So go on and fly then boy**_

I wait patiently for him to take my hand. But he just looks terrified. Petrified. He cowers back and I notice his breathing become laboured.

You know Faith! You know full well! 

I snap back to the scene my hand still hanging like a lead weight in the air, ready to drop at anytime. _Please Bosco _I say inwardly _Please…touch me…hold me…_

"We can't, I can't," he stutters still gazing at my hand. My whole arm begins to shake as I realise he's not going to touch me, he's not going to take my hand, he's just going to stand there. He is just going to fucking stand there. _Bastard. _A whole well of emotions floods me and I'm unable to deal with any one of them. Anger, fear, resentment, contempt, pity, sorrow, apprehension, lust…and a lust for what I'm not sure. A lust for Bosco to touch me or for something else? I scowl and my hand drops to my side. He watches it fall, transfixed by my movements which seem to be saying more than my actual words. I let out a long, heavy sigh and bite down on my lower lip.

"So this is it?" I ask sharply. He looks up at me, his stare teary and unfocused. He places both hands on his hips and stands slouched to the left. "This is it," I repeat, "We're done?"

I try desperately to catch his wandering gaze as he shrugs, and mutters something about 'not being sure.'

_Not sure? Not fucking sure! Is that all I'm worth to him! _I make a noise to air my feelings of frustration and vehemence. He doesn't respond. He just stares at the ground, shifting uneasily on the balls his feet. "Right…" I say chuckling bitterly, "Fine. You push everyone that cares for you away. See if I care!"

"Faith…" he breathes. I gesture wildly in the air, my anger spilling over.

"No! Don't even!" I hiss, "What the hell is wrong with you? Twelve fucking years of partnership and friendship and all I get is an 'I'm not sure'! Well…fuck you Bosco!"

He winces at my offensive and derogatory language. This coming from the guy who can't go ten minutes without swearing inexplicably at something small or of little importance. And it pisses me off that he could be so condescending.

_**Balloons look good from on the ground  
**__**I fear with pins and needles around  
**__**We may fall then stumble upon a carousel**_  
_**It could take us anywhere**_

"Jesus Faith, will you just take a breath?" he mutters ruffling his hair with his right hand. He messes it up and I tut. Christ, why does he destroy everything he touches? It was fine before he did that! I fight the outlandish urge to smooth it down myself and keep my hand firmly clenched down by my side.

"Don't tell me to calm down Bosco! I am calm! I'm calmer than I've ever been," I snap pointing at him. He grins – one of his disarming, perfect and yet mischievous grins.

"Yeah…you look like you've just spent the week at a spa," he replies running his tongue over his lips. I shake my head incredulously.

"Don't even dare try to make a joke out of this! Can't you see what you're doing to me?" I scream. He glances over to where Sully and Davis have pulled in. Sully stands leaning back on the squad car and Davis rests his hand on the roof. Both watched us, clearly intrigued by our little show.

"What about what you're doin' to me eh Faith?" he counters throwing himself back into the argument. It's now obvious he couldn't care less who's watching. Colour rushes to his cheeks as his temper flares and he curls up his fingers into a fist as if ready to attack. It's all a big front and I know that. It's a defence mechanism he uses to scare people off. And it usually works. _Usually_.

Except with me and he knows that. I guess he's using whatever he's left to try and push me away. Even something he knows won't wash with me. He hates women beaters and I know that. Does he honestly expect me to think that he'd hit me? I almost laugh at the thought but hold it back.

"Bosco…why do we keep doin' this? We go round and round…nothin' ever changes," I sigh, defeated.

"I try to change Faith…I do…but it's like _you _can never open up to _me_. I can open up to you!" he fires back. And in some ways he's right. I am a rather defensive person. I never let my guard down for anyone. Especially anyone who might mean something to me. Someone who I might let in. Someone who might care. Someone who might love me. Someone like Bosco. Maybe I was the reason Fred left after all. I wouldn't open up to him. What else could he do? He loved me and I wouldn't talk to him. And _I_ loved _him_. But I didn't trust him. I don't trust anyone. Except for Bosco. And my kids.

"Hey guys, you wanna do this inside?" Davis suggests stepping forward. Bosco scowls at him and Davis holds up his hands defensively. "Just a suggestion man…didn't think you'd want to air your dirty washin' in public…"

Bosco opens his mouth to say something but I cut in quickly. "He's right Bos. Lets head over to the diner yeah? We can talk properly there…"

He glances at me, his jaw setting like he's fighting back the urge to scream and yell. I gulp loudly half expecting he will just let rip right here but he lets out a breathy chuckle and trudges toward the diner. I clench my eyes shut and take a sharp breath relieved that he held it in. When I open my eyes to Davis and Sully I force a smile.

"Thanks guys," I say quietly following Bosco lead.

"Hey Faith!" I hear Sully call. I turn to face him. "You need anything we're right across the street."

I smile again and head into the diner.

_**You say the word  
**__**You know I will find you**_  
_**Or if you need some time I don't mind  
**__**I don't hold on to the tail of your kite**_

I come in to find he's already sitting in a booth, staring blankly out the window. It's even hotter in here and I shrug out of my black jacket throwing it across the seat. He gives me a fleeting glance and turns to look back out the window. A waitress comes over immediately and smiles.

"Can I get you folks anything?" she asks sweetly. I look up at her. She's young and pretty, about 22 with long brown hair tied back in a professional ponytail and huge brown eyes. She stands tall, supermodel tall, about 5"9, with long legs and high cheek bones. She fixes the sleeves of her black diner shirt so that they curl up at her elbows and tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She stands gazing at us expectantly, pen to paper.

"Two cokes please," I reply. I wish to God they served something stronger in here but they don't. She nods and looks over at Bosco.

"Hi Maurice," she says smiling brightly. He mumbles something back and doesn't even look at her. She looks hurt and I watch as she scurries off towards the kitchen.

"That was a bit cruel," I say gently, "I hope you don't treat all potential girlfriends like that…"

He blinks several times as if trying to prevent himself from replying to my innocent remark.

"Listen Bos…" I say sitting forward. I rest my elbows on the table and clasp my hands together in front of me. He sits slouched back in the booth, his own hands clenched on his lap. I feel his legs press against mine, his knee bobbing up and down nervously. It drives me mad but I don't say anything. "We gotta talk about this."

"Its all we ever do Faith…talk…doesn't get us anywhere though does it?" he mutters refusing to even look my direction.

"Hey…" I begin. The young waitress returns, slams the drinks down and stomps off haughtily back to the kitchen. I shake my head as she disappears behind the counter. Maurice Boscorelli usually had that effect on women… "I don't know what you mean." He sighs and says something under his breath, something I can't make out. I gaze at him biting on the skin of my inner lip. I consider daring a question, which I still think, is off limits but it's just so tempting I can't ignore the nagging voice in my head telling me to ask him. I take a deep breath.

"What couldn't you say out there?"

He cuts his eyes to me, suddenly intrigued. "What?"

"You said 'don't make me say it'. What was I not to make you say? What couldn't you tell me?" I ask fidgeting with my thumbs. He frowns and he too leans on the table. His hands are just inches from mine. All I have to do is reach out…

"I can't remember…" he replies simply. I meet his gaze. His eyes cut through me. Like he can see right past my skin and down to the depth's of my soul. And it unnerves me.

"Try," I choke out holding his stare. He bites on his upper lip and sits back again. He shrugs and returns his gaze to out the window.

"What's out there that's so interesting?" I ask. He knows I'm just testing him so he holds his tongue. "Bosco please. Don't go silent and broody on me now."

"This is a waste of time Faith," he says finally getting to his feet. I stare up at him, surprised by his abrupt attempt at an exit.

"Bosco!" I say as he slides out of the booth and heads for the doors. "Bosco! Come back here!"

But he doesn't. He keeps on walking out the doors, and out of my life.

_**I'm not like the girls that you've known  
**__**But I believe I'm worth coming home to  
**__**Kiss away night  
**__**This girl only sleeps with butterflies  
**__**With butterflies  
**__**With butterflies  
**__**So go on and fly boy**_

_Note from author: I know it's awful! I'm really sorry...:-(_


	3. All Of What I Am

**The song is called 'Breathing' and is by Lifehouse. Bosco's POV. Sorry for it's crappiness! Again rated for swearing. R if you're easily offended. **

_I'm finding my way back to sanity again  
__Though I don't really know what I'm gonna do when I get there  
__And take a breath and hold on tight  
__Spin around one more time  
__And gracefully fall back to the arms of grace_

It's been a while now since I've seen her. I took a few weeks off, told Lieu I didn't think I was ready to be back. He was only happy to give me the time off. I saw them look at me as I packed up. It was like I was in the wrong. But the hell I was. It's her fault. It's _all _her fault. And screw anyone else who thinks otherwise.

I have been thinking a lot since I took the time off. Hell I was thinking a lot before that anyway. My life seems so fucked up now. Before it was well…fucked up…but not like this. At least a few aspects made sense. Like my job, my friends, Faith…now it's all gone. I can't do my job properly, Faith and I haven't spoken in ages and I'm pretty sure I've lost whatever friends I had. I guess in many ways I blame her for all of it. I can't help it. It's what I do. Shift the blame onto someone else. She just happened to be my scapegoat this time.

Now I find myself alone again, awake at 3am in my apartment, looking out my window down onto the streets of New York. My eyes glance from one apartment block to the other. Lights left on and blinds pulled means I have a perfect view of people as they carry out everyday tasks in their homes. It seems quite pervy to be sitting watching people in the dark, especially one certain young woman who insists on changing with the curtains open. But what she doesn't know can't hurt her, and if I'm honest I'm not all that interested tonight. My eyes move to another apartment, where a father struggles to keep up with his three children, all of whom look under the age of eight. They've obviously woken him; from here he looks like the walking dead in his boxers and t-shirt, constantly rubbing his face with his hands. I smile as one of his kids hits his leg while the other grabs his wallet. They both run like and hell, and he looks pissed as the baby in his arms begins to sob. Happy families as usual.

Everyone seems busy in their own worlds, none with any clue someone has invaded that world, watching their every movement, being entertained by their lives. This must be how God feels. And for a second I feel a little arrogant in the knowledge that I can watch them. That they don't know. But quickly I go back to feeling like a spy and, a voyeur, in some _particular_ cases. I glance back to her. She wanders around her bedroom topless, phone pressed to her ear. She stops at a mirror and checks herself out, turning to look at her perfectly formed ass. She smiles, pleased with what she sees and makes her way over to the window pulling down the blinds. Ah well. I knew it couldn't last forever. I sit back in my recliner chair and sigh, clenching my eyes shut. I'm so tired. So tired that I can't even find the energy to sleep. I run a hand over my face in an attempt to rub away the fatigue and yawn.

I can't stop thinking about Faith, about Ma, about Mikey, about Mann. It all revolves in my head. All the past few months keep playing over and over. And I can't stop it. It's like the involuntary movement of my heartbeat – I can't control it. And I'm starting to hear voices. Mainly my own but sometimes Faith or Mikey. I talk to them like their here with me. Anyone would think I'd flipped. _I_ think I've flipped. Sitting in the darkness of my flat, hearing _voices_? Jesus Christ I need to be locked away in a fucking padded cell.

I think back to the locker rooms at the end of each day, back when things seemed a lot simpler. I remember watching people back then too. But it was mostly Faith that caught my eye. And it was mostly when she was undressing. Again I know…perverted, but hey that's who I am. Maurice Boscorelli who watches his friend and partner undress to get some sort of sick sexual kick out of it. Jesus – maybe I've always been fucking mad. I'd pretend to be busy at my own locker while she went to hers. It was then I'd watch. She'd take off her jacket first tossing it inside her locker while simultaneously pulling out a shirt. Then, she'd unbutton her work shirt, revealing her white vest, which clung to her body rather attractively in my opinion. She always complained about her figure, saying she needed to lose a few pounds. I think she was just fishing for compliments.

"Want a fry?" I offer her holding out the box. She wrinkles her nose, disgusted by my offer. We both sit alone in the squad car, eating lunch.

"_No, I can't," she mumbles taking another bite out of her apple. I frown._

"_Why not?" _

"_I'm on a diet," she informs me, blushing slightly. _

"_Why?" I ask, confused._

"_I need to lose a bit of extra weight, I'm outta shape," she explains gazing out the front window. I let out a noise and she turns to me._

"_You're not outta shape!" I snort, "You look fine. You've always looked fine."_

_She smiles. "Well thank you but that's not enough. Have you seen these new kids coming out nowadays? Britney or Christina and the likes. They're perfect. No wonder Fred watches MTV as much as he does…"_

"_Come on Yokas!" I laugh, "You know they suffer to get to that weight. Besides they're not all that attractive."_

_She raises her eyebrows. "Sure…you can't tell me you're not one way attracted to either of those girls?" _

_I can't lie. They are friggin' gorgeous. "Exactly," she says sighing a little. _

"_You look fine Faith, in fact you…look good," I concede, avoiding her eyes. I can tell she's staring at me, a smile probably plastered across her face._

"_Aww Bosco!" she says in a mocking sort of fashion, "I never knew!"_

"_Shut up," I mumble. I glance over at her. She grins, her blue eyes twinkling in the light. The sunlight streams through the strands of her strawberry blonde hair and I long to touch it to see if it's as soft as it looks. _

"_Thank you," she breathes. I meet her gaze and give a lazy smile. _

_"You're welcome," I reply. She maintains a big bright smile and reaches over, playfully stealing a fry. Things go back to normal._

She had no idea I looked at her in that way, and I felt a little thrill run through me at that thought. I was in control. She was my victim. She'd brush her hair off her neck revealing it's slim curve. I'd trace the outline of her face with my eyes, watch as she gulped, causing a lump to form in her throat. It was all perfectly innocent. What she didn't know couldn't possibly hurt her. I think if she did know she'd clip me over the head. But she never caught on and I was grateful.

'_Cause I am hanging on every word you say and  
__Even if you don't want to speak tonight  
__That's alright, alright with me  
__'Cause I want nothing more than_  
_To sit outside Heaven's door  
__And listen to you breathing  
__Is where I wanna be yeah _

I glance at my clock. It's only ten minutes gone since I last checked the time. Christ, does time always move this slow? I sigh and bury my face into my hands. I need some sleep. At least fifteen minutes of it. I pick my NYPD baseball cap off the table and play with it absentmindedly. Unconsciously I slip it onto my head feeling more comfortable with it on for some reason. I pray silently into myself.

I haven't prayed in such a long time and I don't know what's come over me. My hands are clasped together in front of my face and I mutter a Hail Mary and then an Our Father under my breath. Jesus, I was hardly a good Catholic at the best of times, why the sudden need to pray now? I find myself asking for forgiveness. Forgiveness for what I'm not sure but I ask for it. I'm interrupted by a soft knock on the front door. Who the hell is calling at this time of night? Instinctively I grab my loaded gun pushing it down into my back pocket as I head for the door. Force of habit I suppose.

"Yeah?" I say. Silence for a second. I almost know it's her before she even answers. I'm sure I can hear the sound of her breathing.

"Bosco," Faith chokes out, "Bos…it's me."

I unlock the door slowly opening it to her. She stands in my doorway, her gaze a little sad. She's wearing jeans and a red blouse, with no jacket. _Stupid woman. _Doesn't she know how cold it is out there? Her hair is poker straight and hangs loosely over her shoulders. I think she's cut it or something 'cause it looks different. "Can I come in?" she says, barely in a whisper. I step out of the way gesturing for her to enter. She steps passed me keeping her eyes glued to the floor and her hands pressed together in front of her.

"Sorry, it's so late…" she begins pacing my floor, "I just wanted…I couldn't sleep and I…"

"Me either," I reply quietly. She looks at me and I'm sure, in the darkness of my living room I can see her smile.

"Can we have a light on Bos?" she asks. I move over to the lamp and flick it on. The light burns my eyes and I rub them to rid myself of the pain. I look over at her. She stands in the middle of the room, looking a little lost quite frankly.

"Do you want a coffee or somethin'?" I ask. She shakes her head.

"Last thing I need is more coffee, I'm wired as it is," she laughs nervously. I nod.

"Well…what can I do for ya?" I say biting on my upper lip. She shrugs and laughs again.

"I'm sorry…I should go…" she says suddenly shifting uncomfortably on her feet.

"No!" I say. She looks up, her eyes wide. I look into them. They're innocent and fearful. What I wouldn't give to be lost in them. "Don't go."

"I don't wanna fight anymore," she whispers.

"Me either," I say echoing my words from earlier. She glances sideways and gulps loudly. Her hair falls into her eyes and I feel desire coil in my stomach as she stares out the window. It mirrors the times I used to watch her in the locker room. She hasn't a clue what I'm doing. Suddenly I'm filled with lots of inappropriate and primal feelings and I bite down on my tongue to punish myself for them. She turns back to me, her expression remaining unchanged.

"What's wrong with us?" she asks.

"I dunno," I reply, "I want coffee, do you want coffee?"

"You already asked me that," she reminds me, her voice barely audible. I gaze back at her and we stand in a questioning silence.

"How about somethin' stronger then?" I offer heading for my fridge.

"A beer's good," she informs me. I fetch two beers and hand her one. Our fingers brush together as I pass her the bottle. She barely notices I, however, freeze as the hairs on the back of my neck prick up and a shiver runs through me.

"Thank you," she murmurs taking a sip of the cold liquid. I just hold my bottle, clenching it like it's some sort of lifeline.

"How have you been?" I say suddenly. She smiles down into her bottle.

"Oh you know…" she replies glancing up into my face.

"Yeah… I think I do," I say. She smiles again but it's not a happy one.

"I miss you," she whispers, refusing to look up. It's the most heartbreaking thing I've ever had to watch. I see a single tear fall onto her blouse as she stutters over the words.

"I miss you too," I respond. She nods without looking up.

"Then why haven't you called me?" she says, sounding a little more frustrated now.

"I thought you might need some space," I reply lamely. She snorts.

"God…Bosco!" she says, exasperated, "All I've wanted for the past few weeks is to hear the sound of your voice. Do you know what it's like to be so alone that it begins to feel normal?"

"Yeah…I do," I reply. She lets out a long breath.

"I've never been alone before Bos…I don't know how to be alone. I needed you to be there for me."

"And I needed you there for me. Faith! This is pointless. You know that!"

She puts down her bottle on the coffee table and moves away from me. I watch as she heads for the mantelpiece, her eyes scanning photographs and my other personal belongings. She pauses on one particular photo of Ma, her and myself. I can't even remember where it was taken but it's a completely natural photo. Not posed or feigned. I have my arms around both of them, pulling them in tightly, holding onto them for dear life. Both lean into me, Faith's cheek brushing against mine, Ma's face resting on my chest. My whole world is in that photo. She brushes her fingers off the image and sighs.

"Can't we go back to that?" she asks.

"It's all I want," I reply.

"Then why can't we do it?" she cries placing the photo back in it's spot, "Why can't we forget?"

"Too much has happened Faith," I reply, ""Too much. Time isn't gonna fix it either."

"But you're my best friend Bosco," she says, pausing to take a sharp breath, "I need you."

_I'm looking past the shadows in my mind into the truth  
__And I'm trying to identify the voices in my head  
__God, which one's you?  
__Let me feel one more time what it  
__Feels like to feel and break these calluses off of me  
__One more time_

I repress the urge to scream at her, to shake her, and tell her I need her too. That I want her more than she'll ever realise. Instead I stand about a metre away, gazing at her. She looks back, her eyes watering. "Please tell me you're still my best friend."

Friend? _Friend? _Jesus Christ. It's gone well past that and she knows it. How stubborn is she gonna be?

"You know I'm always here for you," I say softly. She closes her eyes shut and presses her lips together as if suppressing some sort of poignant emotion that is overwhelming her. I wish I knew what that emotion was. Fear, contempt, caring…or something else entirely?

"That's not what I asked," she murmurs, her eyes remaining clamped shut. She runs her fingers down her temples as if ridding herself of some sort of migraine. "I really do miss you Bosco."

"I told you, I miss you too, but things will never be the same now," I say placing my bottle down beside hers on the coffee table. I look at her.

The soft ambience of my desk lamp caresses the golden strands of her long, layered hair, wrapping them in a warm glow. The light reflects off her milky white skin, making her radiate a natural beauty that I've never before experienced and her blue eyes catch momentarily in a stray beam of moonlight from outside and sparkle. I wonder if she realises how beautiful she is? I don't want her to move for fear the light will change and she'll look different to how she is now. But she does and her appearance doesn't change. She's still stunning.

I don't think she can find the words to respond. She looks like she's having difficulty forming any sort of noise, and she runs a hand through her hair exasperated by her own obscurity. Suddenly she turns to me and gives me a look. She's never looked at me this way before. It's like I'm a stranger. Like she doesn't know who I am anymore. Have things changed that much?

"Everything's so different now," she breathes as if reading my own thoughts, "Why did everything change?"

I shuffle my feet off the wooden floorboards catching a glimpse of her as she turns to the window.

"Why did you come here tonight?" I ask, suddenly finding to courage to venture the question. She turns to me, stunned by frankness. Her jaw drops open as if she's trying to reply but instead shakes her head.

"I wanted to see how you were," she replies eventually.

"At 3am in the morning?" I retort. She shrugs.

"I…I…" she stammers. I look down at her hands. They're shaking violently as she grips the back of a chair for support. "I had a feeling…"

"Feeling?" I question, stepping forward.

"Yeah…like you needed to talk…and so did I…I know it sounds stupid," she replies, laughing at the thought of it.

'_Cause I am hanging on every word you say and  
__Even if you don't wanna speak tonight  
__That's alright, alright with me  
_'_Cause I want nothing more than to sit outside your door  
__And listen to your breathing  
__Is where I wanna be yeah  
__Where I wanna be_

I wish it did sound stupid. But it doesn't. It makes absolute perfect sense. We've always been that way, Faith and I. It's not an 'otherly worldy' kind of thing, it's just…we always seem to have a fair idea of what the other's thinking. Maybe we've spent too much time together, I dunno. But right now, I can't figure her out. For the life of me I can't figure out what she's thinking. I even consider asking her for a brief second.

"For such a long time you were the only thing in my world that made sense…" she mumbles swaying on her feet. "Even through everything. I could always depend on you…"

"I know what you mean," I reply. She cranes her neck around to look at me and I see a smile flicker across her full, red lips. Then it comes out. I'm not sure why but the words just escape. "What are you thinking?"

She twists her mouth pensively and looks back out the window. "Honestly?"

"Honestly," I confirm gulping nervously. It's not that I'm afraid of what she'll say…well I am_ but _I'm more afraid of what will come from it.

"How beautiful it is out there," she replies, smiling into the darkness. I follow her gaze out the window. It's not a particularly nice night. It's like every other night in my opinion. Dark. She turns to me again and a breathy chuckle escapes her throat. "I finally realise how to fix this."

I look up from the floor and meet her gaze. She smiles and purposely moves toward me, stopping just inches from my body. I feel her welcoming body heat radiate against my own. She reaches up hesitantly; placing both hands on the back of my neck and pulls me down onto her shoulder. At first I stand unresponsive, as she runs her fingers up the base of my neck into the curls of my hair. And then, almost instinctively, I know what to do. I wrap my own arms around her waist pulling her in to me. I hear her let out a relived sigh and I close my eyes. I think I can hear her heart beating, or it could be my own. I'm not really sure. I've never been this close to her before. I inhale her scent. She smells like coconut ice cream, only better. Her hair falls into my face and I brush it down with one of my hands.

"I'm sorry," she whispers into my shoulder. I rub her back affectionately.

"Me too," I reply. She snakes her arms around my waist as she rests her head on my chest. It's all I've ever needed to feel a part of someone like this. She makes me feel whole.

_I don't want a thing from you  
__Bet you're tired of me  
__Waiting for the scraps to fall off of your table to the ground  
_'_Cause I just want to be here now_

The sun's beginning to rise outside. The subtle beams of light radiate through the window onto her face. She sits in front of me cradling a mug of coffee in her hands, her arms resting on the table. I can't help but watch her. She gazes down into her cup, concentrating on the whirling liquid contents.

"Thanks for coming to see me," I say quietly. She smiles without looking up.

"Thank you for letting me in," she replies, chuckling slightly. She glances up and her eyes rest on the NYPD cap on my head. "You planning on doin' a runner?"

She rests her chin in one of her hands, leaning down onto the table. I take it off and laugh. "I don't even know why I had in on." She falls silent gazing at the baseball cap in my hands.

"I miss the normality of it all you know, being with you everyday, on the job," she reveals.

"Yeah I know what you mean." I pause staring at her as she bites down her bottom lip. "Here," I say as I place the cap on her head. It pushes her straight hair down and some stray strands wander across her face. She clenches her eyes shut, smiling as I take my hand away. "There's my patrol girl."

She chuckles light-heartedly and leans back in her chair fixing the cap securely onto her head. "I lost mine ya know?"

"Well have mine then," I suggest. She shakes her head, smiling feebly.

"Nah, it's not like I need it anymore," she replies sighing. I shrug and take a sip of my now luke warm coffee.

"No have it, I'll get another one," I insist placing the cup back down on the table.

"Ok…are we fine now?"

"Yeah…we're fine."

"Good…'cause ya know…that's good."

"Jesus it's early Faith, don't you have to be in work?" I ask gazing at my watch.

"I can go without sleep," she replies. We fall back into a comfortable silence and I watch as she turns her head and stares out the window.

"Another day, another crime to solve for Detective Yokas," I joke leaning back in my chair. She smirks.

"Somethin' like that."

'_Cause I am hanging on every word you say and  
__Even if you don't wanna speak tonight  
__That's alright, alright with me  
_'_Cause I want nothing more than to sit outside Heaven's door  
__And listen to you breathing  
__Is where I wanna be yeah  
__Where I wanna be  
__Where I wanna be _


	4. Walk Away

I thought I might update this one again. Thank you all so much for your lovely comments, I really don't deserve them! Also a bit of a warning quite a bit of strong language in this one, and some innuendo.

"_What a wicked game to play, to make me feel this way. What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you. What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way. What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you" Wicked Game – Chris Isaak. _

I stand outside work, staring up at the building, my arms and legs refusing to move as if something had frozen them to the spot. Sighing I glance around, watching as people stride by, lost in their own worlds. I'm not sure what time I left Bosco's. It was late anyway. Late or early. Depending on what way you look at it I suppose. I didn't even have time to grab a shower before I came to work. I went home, changed, had _yet another _cup of coffee and left. My eyes sting, and I'm sure the late night is evident in my face. I yawn, stretch my arms out and sigh again.

"Mornin' Yokas," a familiar voice says behind me. I turn and flash Davis a weak smile.

"Mornin'," I reply courteously. He takes one look at me and grins.

"Jeez, what kept you up all night?" he jokes. I fall into his stride, walking up to the front doors.

"Bosco," I reply running a hand through my hair. He raises his eyebrows and smiles mischievously. "Not like that," I say hastily. He's still smiling.

"I swear, we just talked," I say. He raises his hands up defensively.

"I never said you did anything else," he replies.

"The why the hell are you smirkin' like that?" I hiss.

"Relax Yokas," he chuckles, "God…you're getting very worked up there."

"Davis I'm warning you," I tell him placing my hands on my hips, feigning an anger that I don't really feel. His hand is now placed on the door ready to push it open. That damn smile is still there though.

"Does Bosco like it when you get mad with him?" he asks after a beat. He can't stop smiling but he knows I'm ready to react at any moment. He dodges my hand as it flies to his leg and I hear him laugh as he bustles through the doors into the lobby. I chase after him playfully and whack him over the head, not too hard but hard enough for him to realise not to push it anymore.

"Ow! Damn woman!" he cries rubbing the back of his skull. It's my turn to smile.

"I did warn you," I retort turning towards the desk. Bosco and Lieu are staring at us. My breath hitches a little as my eyes meet Bosco's, and I suddenly feel the need to tug down on my sweater and make myself in some way presentable.

The night doesn't show on him at all. His blue eyes are still big and bright, his skin still tanned, his hair (granted a little messy) still has its mahogany softness as it curls into his head. He's not dressed in his uniform yet, wearing a tight navy t-shirt and blue jeans. It's not fair – why does he have to look so damn good and I look like shit? I scold myself inwardly for my pettiness; it's not like it's a competition or anything.

He rests both his arms on the counter top leaning into papers that Lieu has lining the desk. Both men nod at me, as if to acknowledge my presence. I wave a little lamely and I feel Davis come up behind me, leaning down to my ear.

"Look Yokas, it's your lover," he teases, nipping my sides with his fingers. I yelp, shocked by the contact, and he skips off towards the locker room avoiding another thump.

I suddenly feel embarrassed and turn to the pair, forcing a smile. Lieu shakes his head disapprovingly and I mouth a 'sorry'. I know I'm going to get a talk later on the 'proper behaviour of a detective in the presence of the other officers'. Great – I'll look forward to that one. Lieu turns away, his head still shaking like one of those toy dogs you get for your car and I'm left looking at Bosco. He doesn't look too impressed and I frown as he too shakes his head, but in a more bitter fashion, and turns his back to me.

The hell if I'm gonna let this go. I stride up to him, stuffing my hands into the back pockets of my trousers. "What's wrong now?" I ask, skipping on the pleasantry of greeting him. He mutters something under his breath and I roll my eyes. "Bosco, what the hell is wrong?"

He throws down his pen and I see his jaw contract. Jesus, what _the hell_ have I done this time?

"So what? You just flirt with Davis now?" he asks straight out. I feel myself cower back, a little offended by his question.

"What?" I reply quietly.

"You and Davis? A second ago? Come on Yokas, you're not that dumb a blonde," he snorts picking up his pen again. Now it's my turn to be pissed.

"Excuse me?" I say, incredulous, "I did not 'flirt' with Davis!" My tone was a little louder than I intended it to be and I close my eyes, realising more than a few people heard that. I hear him laugh again.

"Sure you didn't," he replies scribbling something down furiously.

"Look at me," I command, placing both hands on my hips. He refuses, still transcribing the document. I pry the pen from his fingers and I hear him sigh, exasperated. "Look at me," I repeat staring ahead of him. He turns slowly, meeting my gaze. "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing's goin' on with me Faith, I just think it's a bit stupid of you to flirt with another officer in the building, in front of the boss," he replies, licking his lips.

"Hey! I did not flirt with him, and even if I did, what business is it of yours?" I snap. He laughs again, and shakes his head.

"None I guess," he replies in a whisper. My brow furrows as I squint at him, seriously bewildered by his behaviour.

"No come on. If you have somethin' to say…"

"I just don't like other guys touching you ok?" he yells into my face. I step back, more than shocked by his honesty.

"Bos…what…" I stutter, more than confused. He shakes his head again, chuckling softly.

"I didn't mean it to sound like that," he says quickly as if to avoid any further embarrassment. "It came out all wrong…"

"Bosco. It's Ty. I mean he's hardly another 'guy'. He's a work colleague, just like me and you," I say softly, concentrating on the last five words of my sentence. He stares down at the floor, his body turned away from me.

"Yeah…just like me and you." He repeats my words with such conviction and bitterness that I feel my breath catch in the back of my throat, a dry lump forming. My mouth drops open as if I'm about to respond but no sound comes out. He refuses to even look my way, instead casting his despondent gaze to the wall across from the desk.

I didn't mean it to sound like that. Shit, I want to change what I've just said. I want to say it again so the words have the meaning I intended them to have. I wanted him to feel comforted by the fact I'd always be there for him, not feel as if I'm pushing him away. I _want_ to fix this.

"Bosco." I manage to speak his name, out of sheer effort and determination. It's the only thing I can say. He turns to me slowly. His face is vacant of any expression. He's almost indifferent.

Ok that's something I never thought Bosco could be. Frustrated – yes. Hurt – yes. Totally fucking of his head insane with anger and infuriation – yes. Indifferent…no. No way in hell. He's always this well of emotions; he's never in between. Or so I thought.

"Bosco," I choke out again trying to grab his elbow as he attempts a swift exit. He shakes me off violently, sending me stumbling backwards.

"Leave it Yokas," he barks, striding on. I stare after him, fighting for breath as he heads for the locker rooms. No I will not_ fucking_ leave it! How dare he! I chase after him, hot on his heel.

"What the hell is your problem Bosco?" I scream, "Do you just love to fight with me?"

He stops abruptly causing me to bump into his back. I step back, regaining my composure as he turns to face me. He pushes his face into mine, his eyes boring holes into my head. He's so livid now. This is more like the Bosco I know. Unable to control his emotions, moody…

"Oh yes! I just love all this Faith!" he mocks angrily, "It's the highlight of my day, our screamin' matches at work!"

"Why don't you like other men touching me?" I ask, breathily.

He stops, taken back my question. I raise my eyebrows expectantly and he shakes his head laughing.

"Fuck you Faith," he mutters turning away from me.

"Why don't you?" I say again.

"I don't know…Jesus Faith leave it!"

"No, not that. Why don't you just fuck me?" I say barely in a whisper. He stares at me.

"What?" he asks, his tone incredulous. I gaze back at him, my breathing becoming laboured as he approaches. He stands over me, his warm breath blowing wisps of my hair across my face.

"Because, for some reason, that's not something I can just do without giving a second's thought," he replies, his face just inches from mine.

"Why not?" I gulp, "You do it all the time with other girls? Why not with me?"

His eyes fly down to my lips and for one frightening second I think he's about to kiss me. Right here in the locker rooms. Not that the conversation we're having in here isn't totally appropriate either. He looks back up, meeting my eyes.

"You're not like the other girls I've met Faith. You're like no one I've ever met before." He raises a hand brushing my hair from my eyes. "No one."

We stand for a second, breathing heavily, staring at each other. I'm so afraid that if I move, he'll pull away. Or worse. He'll move closer. But I don't even have to think about making the first move because he backs up, his hands trembling as he struggles into his jacket.

"Tell Lieu I ain't feelin' well. I'll see you when I see you Faith."

I watch as he leaves without even glancing back. Suddenly my legs feel like jelly and I collapse onto the floor fighting for breath, tears streaming down my face. What _in the hell_ is this man doing to me?


	5. Give It Away

**_Note From Author: Back to Bosco's thoughts again. Firstly I want to thank you all for your really nice responses but especially to Tahirih22 – thanks for your help and advice. I didn't think you were a horrible critique at all; I found your input really useful:-) Thanks again to everyone. Xxx_**

"_We try are lives away, yet stumble to the grave. We cry and still they say the past won't go away, the story of my life." Kristian Leontiou – Story Of My Life. _

I up the speed of my 69 Mustang, driving down the freeway at a rather reckless pace if I'm honest. I over take a huge truck, and the driver hits his horn. The loud noise startles me and my immediate reaction initially is to give him the finger. I regret the decision in the instant I carried out the gesture and hit the brakes, slowing down to a more respectable speed. After all I am a friggin' cop, for all the good it's done me. I keep thinking on what she said back in the locker room, how forward she was. She was honest. A little too honest in my opinion. I've never seen her like that before. My Faith, the Faith I knew, was more self-controlled. She would've never gone on an incoherent rant. But then again things had changed a lot since I got back. Maybe I didn't know her as well as I thought I did.

My mobile buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out to screen the call.

'Faith Calling' flashes on-screen.

I don't answer. Instead I hit the off button, powering it down. Letting out a long sigh, I throw it on the passenger seat, placing both hands back on the wheel. Did she really mean what she said? She couldn't. She's just confused and lonely. And for some reason I'm the guy she needs to take it out on. She didn't mean a word of what she said. I know in my heart she didn't. The look in her eyes is what really unnerves me. It's not something I've ever seen before in her. I knew she was mad, ok fuckin' infuriated, with me but there was something else there. Frustration? Is that the right word? She's _frustrated _with me? Or is she frustrated with herself? Another sigh. Jesus Christ I don't know. After twelve years I still can't figure her out.

I indicate to filter off the freeway, heading back into the city. I'm sure as hell not going to get anywhere by running away. Ok, it might make things seem easier but the nagging inside my head won't stop.

I keep driving, my head mulling over the places I could go to escape my misery. A bar seems like a great idea but rationale tells me to stay away from Hegarty's. Instead I head to that little 24-hour diner Faith loves so much. I don't know why I want to go there but I do. Maybe it had something to do with the familiarity of the place. God knows nothing in my life is familiar anymore. Take Faith for example. She's suddenly turned into this attractive woman. A woman of complexity and emotion - yes, but still a woman. And I've never noticed that before in her. Not that I didn't realise she was a girl, and a pretty girl at that, I just never realised the extent of her femininity. I still think I don't realise just how fragile she is. For years I've looked at her as my partner and friend. Why should things be different now? I don't want them to be. I want to go back to when it was easy. Back to when things seemed simple. I don't want these feelings. They're just a burden. I don't want my heart to skip a beat when she smiles at me. I don't want to get lost in her eyes everytime she looks at me. I don't want to have the need of brushing the hair from her face when it falls down. I don't want any of it anymore. I want for Him upstairs to take it back.

I pull into a tight space at the front of the diner, nearly taking my wing mirror off from trying to squeeze in. Faith would've told me to get a better spot on the other end of the lot and walk my lazy ass across the car park. Well she's not here today. She'll never be here ever again.

I sit glued to the seat watching as the rain outside beats down off the ground, my windscreen steaming from the moisture. I make a resolve to get out of the car, my hands still gripping the bottom of the steering wheel.

"Right," I breathe biting on my upper lip. I hate the rain. It's so…depressing. Faith on the other hand loves it. She says she prefers rainy days to sunny days. Sunny days mean an uncomfortable heat and a lot of sweating or so she says. She refuses to look at it from any other angle. _Stubborn woman. _

I reach out for my steel door handle pulling it open and step out into the rain, which has now turned into a muzzy drizzle. I shiver when a cold breeze runs through me. I can't even be bothered to go back to the car to get my coat. I'm up at the door of the place now anyway.

Stepping inside, I'm greeted by the familiar smell of greasy fry-ups, potatoes, and coffee mixed with the scent of the newly painted yellow walls. I slide into a booth, my damp clothes eliciting a squeaking noise as they rub against the cheap red leather of the seats. "What can I get you darlin'?" a voice asks. I look up at the middle-aged woman and smile. She's in her forty's with curly brown hair, and tanned skin. She reminds me in many ways of my ma. Her exterior is gruff and unkempt, her hair tied back in a poorly secured ponytail, dark rings circling her deep brown eyes, and her hands are aged and wrinkled.

"Just a coffee thanks," I reply. She frowns slightly.

"A young man like you shouldn't do without a proper lunch," she says handing me a menu from the bar, "You have a look at that and I'll come back with your coffee. You can tell me what you want to eat then."

Definitely reminds me of Ma. I put the menu down and gaze out the window. Steam rises from the sills framing the edges of the thick glass. It's not a cold day – in fact it's quite warm. In here, the temperature seems to have gone up to a hundred degrees and I shift uncomfortably under the heat, tugging at my collar.

"Hello Bosco."

I close my eyes recognising the voice immediately. I don't even need to look.

"Cruz."

She slides into the booth across from me, a wide smile plastered across her beautiful face.

"Haven't spoken to you in a while," she says leaning back in the seat. I continue to stare out the window, trying my best to ignore her.

"Well that's what happens when you try to kill my best friend," I reply simply. She lets out a throaty chuckle and I look towards her. Her black hair curls against her face, damp from the rain, and her mascara runs slightly across her eyelids. I can't deny it; I know how to pick them. Cruz is bloody gorgeous. But with that beauty comes the stigma of 'bitch of the century'.

"Now, now Bosco. Play nice," she says, lowering her tone seductively. I roll my eyes and rest my forehead on the windowpane. "Did you and your wife have a fight?"

I frown and sit back up straight. "What?"

She smiles, amused by my bewilderment. "You and Faith. Did you have another one of your 'things'?"

"Fuck you Cruz," I snap. She grins crossing her arms across her chest.

"You already did Bosco."

I scowl and turn my head away again.

"Maybe you should do the same to her. I swear she's been like a bear with a sore head all mornin'. Maybe you should see to that."

She's taken it one step too far. The cup of coffee that the waitress had at one point left down for me, flies to the floor and breaks into pieces. She still maintains a mischievous smile, never taking her eyes away from me.

"Temper, temper," she whispers, grinning.

"Go to hell Cruz," I hiss, through clenched teeth.

"It was just a suggestion Boscorelli. You need to chill a bit."

I take out my wallet and withdraw a handful of notes placing them on the table. That should cover the broken cup I suppose. I throw her one last withering glance and storm off, out of the building.

I hear her follow me outside. The rains beating down again, and it runs down my skin, trickling down my collar.

"Bosco!" she calls. Her voice grates slightly, and I turn to face her. Her deep red top clings attractively to her body, her black jeans soaked through with water. Her hair, drenched with rainwater hangs loosely over her shoulders. She approaches me slowly, her breathing piercing the air with a misty appearance.

"What?" I say barely whispering. She reaches up pulling me down towards her lips. I can't believe this. At first I stand unresponsive as she hangs off my neck, her mouth working against mine. And for one brief, devastating second I react, kissing her back with little force. I quickly realise what I'm doing and push her back. She stumbles on her heels and smiles playfully.

"For old times sake," she yells over the rain. Her eyes fall past me and I turn to follow her gaze. Faith stands in the middle of the gravelled parking lot, staring at me wide-eyed, and innocent. Her jaw contracts and her eyes never leave mine as she shakes her head, gives me a wry smile and turns back for her car.

"Faith wait!" I call. I hear Cruz laugh as I chase after Faith, catching her easily by the wrist.

"No!" she screams at me, "Don't even Bosco!"

"I'm sorry! She kissed me!" I protest. She steps back pointing her finger at me.

"I came here to apologise for earlier! For me acting like a bitch! For not being your friend! When all along you were the one betraying my trust!" she screeches pulling at the roots of her hair. "She shot me Bosco! What is your obsession with her? Are you always going to choose her over me?"

"I don't…Faith! What you said earlier confused me. I…"

"It confused you! What about me Bosco! I've never even thought that way before and suddenly it comes out! How do you think I felt?"

"I don't know. You won't tell me! You won't tell me anything anymore! And then when you do decide to talk to me, you ask me to…Jesus Faith! What is wrong with you?" I bark.

Her blonde hair sticks to her wet skin and a tear escapes her eyes, leaving a rivulet stain of mascara down her cheek. "You're what's wrong with me!" she retorts, gesturing wildly. "Why can't we stop fighting? What the hell is wrong with us?"

"Maybe we can't be friends anymore," I say, sighing. She steps back defeated, her head hanging low.

"But in the apartment…we said…we made up."

"Did we? Or did we just buy some more time?"

"This is your fault," she states, her voice trembling. She turns to her car door throwing it open, with force.

"That's right. It's all my fault Faith. Nothing is ever yours!" I yell as she slips inside. She revs the engine, pulling out sharply, nearly knocking me over as she does.

I gaze after her, watching as she pulls away, driving with the same carelessness as me earlier. I turn back to find Cruz still standing there smirking like mad.

"Well done Bosco. You really have messed up this time," she calls out stepping back to the diner. Both women head off in different directions and for the first time in my life I'm too tired to follow either one of them.


	6. Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own

_**Still staying with Bosco's POV for a while. **_

I walk back into the diner. Cruz sits in the same booth we left staring out the window, with wide-eyes. I don't know why but I take pity on her, and slide back into the booth, clenching both hands together on the table.

"I'm sorry," she says eventually. I look at her, and trace the outline of her face with my eyes. She looks sad; I never thought I'd see her look sad.

"So you should be, what the hell were you thinkin' Cruz?" I ask glaring at her. She closes her eyes and takes a slow breath.

"I'm sick Bosco. Real sick."

"Well that I knew," I quip. She shakes her head and a smile ghosts her face.

"You don't get it do you?" she says, sighing. "Bosco…I'm dying."

I'm shocked. There's no other way I can put it. I just stare at her. I feel like I've been doused with a bucket of ice-cold water.

"What?" I stammer.

"You heard me," she replies, with a tone of indifference.

"How…no…you can't be," I reply. She meets my gaze.

"I can be and I am."

"Is there anything that can be done? To stop it?"

She shakes her head and takes a sip out of the tall glass of water that was sitting in front of her. "Nothing that'll be of any benefit. I am sorry about out there…"

"Forget about it. Me and Faith will work it out."

"You always do," she replies quietly. She stops and averts her gaze to the ceiling.

"I just wanted to be close to you one last time. I didn't know she was there. I swear to God I didn't know," she chokes out. I reach out, taking her hands in mine. "I don't wanna cause anymore trouble for you Bosco. I've changed. Honest I have."

"I believe you," I reply, rubbing her fingers with my own.

"Out of all the guys I've been with, you were the most sane," she states fighting back the tears. I smile gently.

"Well that's…good to know…." I say slowly. She lets out a laugh. I can't decide whether or not she's laughing for the sake of it, or she's bitterly amused by the situation. She sniffles and lets out a long breath.

"Well…I gotta run."

"Stop the bad guys?" I question as she gets to her feet. She looks down at me and smiles. One of those disarming, beautiful smiles that I fell for.

"Isn't that what I'm always doin'?" she says winking.

"Take care Cruz," I say holding her soft gaze.

"Yeah you too…" she replies as she turns to walk off. "Oh Bosco."

"Yeah?"

"Don't leave it too long."

I frown, confused by her order.

"To do what?" I ask, turning around to her.

"To tell her," she replies simply. She gives me a knowing smile, flips her dark hair and leaves. I find myself grinning as she leaves. She always did have that effect on me. Pulling out my phone, I press the power button switching it on. I dial the mailbox.

"You have one new message," it informs me, "Message sent today at twelve fifteen."

The machine clicks and I hear the sound of deep breathing, followed by a sniffle. Faith.

"Hey Bosco. It's me. I just wanted to apologize for earlier. For what I said. I didn't realise what I was saying till it came out. I just…." She pauses taking a breath, "I just wanted you to see…to see how lonely I was without you…Fred's gone Bosco and it feels like all I have left is Charlie, Emily and…you. I guess I was trying to get you to fill the void left by Fred…I dunno…it sounds stupid now. I never meant it though. Honest to God, I just…I feel so alone…"

She starts to sob down the phone, and I feel my own heart break at the distorted sound of her cry.

"I'm so sorry. And I want to thank you for how you responded to my…" she stops again. I can almost picture her trying to find the word and I smirk, "My _suggestion_. You're my best friend and I never want to lose you. I just want it to go back the way it was Bos…I tell you what. I'm goin' to the diner on 94th street. Meet me there and we'll have a proper chat ok? Or alternatively I can do some serious grovelling." She stops to chuckle. "Ok, I'm gonna go now. I hope to see you later, but if you don't want to see me that's ok too. Ok…bye Bosco."

It clicks off and I flip down my phone pressing the aerial against my lips. Why didn't she just tell me that last night? Why didn't she just tell me how she was feeling? Maybe then this wouldn't have happened. I dial her number, praying that by some miracle she answers. But she doesn't. God's really against me today for some reason. I sigh, stand up and try to figure out where on this earth Faith would go when she's feeling this lonely and angry. Almost instantly I know. Central Park.


	7. Bad Day

**Taking a look from Faith's perspective now. Again thanks a lot for your lovely responses and advice The lyrics are from the song 'Bad Day' by Daniel Powter. xXx**

_Where is the moment we needed the most?  
__You kick up the leaves and the magic is lost  
__They tell me your blue skies fade to grey  
__They tell me your passions gone away  
__And I don't need no carryin' on_

I can't remember how long I've been driving. It feels like forever. I don't want to go home, I don't want to go anywhere. I just want to drive. Just so I can clear my head of some of the madness. I thought today was going to be better. I was obviously wrong. The heavy rain from earlier has turned into a soft drizzle, beating down on my windscreen with such a soothing sound I could fall asleep listening to it.

I am that tired.

I can't understand how he can betray me like this. After all we've been through together and he runs back to her. It hurts that he would think so little of me, especially after what happened in the locker rooms. I find myself turning for home, my own sub-conscience flicking the indicator before my brain can catch up. There's nowhere else I can go anyway. Besides Emily will be home, and she's probably hungry for dinner.

I pull up outside, park carefully, and switch off the humming engine. I sit there gazing out the window into the rain. Some people run to escape the cold weather, other's walk as if there's nothing unusual about it at all. I guess it just shows the contrast in peoples personalities and ways of thinking. Take Bosco and I for example. He's always hated the rain, whereas I love it. He thinks I'm mad for this, and I remember one particular day when he was determined to show me the benefits of sunny weather.

_"How can you like the rain?" he asked wrinkling his nose, disgusted by my statement about the weather._

"_I just do," I replied quickly._

"_You are one weird woman Yokas," he snorted sitting back in the drivers seat. _

"_Well you're one weird man Boscorelli so I guess it's what makes us fit," I said, smiling. _

"_But seriously, the rain?" he said, his tone incredulous, "That's like saying you like cabbage, or sprouts, or…"  
_

"_Do you have to argue with everything I say?" I interrupted. He turned his head towards me. "All I said was how I like this weather. I thought the weather was a safe topic of conversation. Something we couldn't possibly argue on but no…"_

_"What are you talkin' about Yokas? We agree on some things," he said. _

_"Like what?"_

"_We both agree that the crime rate is far too high," he replied after several moments of consideration. _

"_Bosco, that's basically the whole city's opinion," I chuckled. He however didn't seem amused. _

"_I still can't believe you don't like warm weather."_

"_It's not that I don't like it. I just prefer rain."_

"_So you're tellin' me you'd rather be getting drenched instead o' being on a tropical island somewhere getting a tan, and drinking margaritas all day?" he asked, his eyes narrowing. I shrugged. _

"Put it this way. Have you ever gone runnin' through Central Park when the rain is pouring down and there's hardly anyone else about? Seriously, it's so refreshing. Because the rain is so cold, there's no way you can notice your body temperature goin' up from all the exercise and so you just keep running. You should try it, you're problems just seem so much smaller afterwards," I informed him.

"_This sounds like the time you tried to switch me to 'grey tea' or whatever it was. And I tried that and let me tell you – it tasted like shit in comparison to coffee." _

"_Ok, but don't say I never give you good advice or ideas," I replied, smiling. He returned it, despite himself. _

_"Still one crazy ass bitch Yokas."_

"_It's why you love me."_

_You stand in the line just to hit a new low  
__You're faking a smile with the coffee you go  
__You tell me your life's been way off line  
__You're falling to pieces everytime  
__And I don't need no carryin' on_

I don't know how but suddenly I'm ascending the stairs to my apartment, taking it so slow that Mrs Jackson my 86-year-old neighbour gets up the stairs quicker than me. I come to my door and stand staring at it for several seconds. I find myself actually considering whether or not I should go in for the thought alone of having to face my teenage daughter is too much to bear. Eventually sense prevails and I twiddle my keys in the lock, pushing my way inside.

The warmth hits me immediately, and the smell of pasta fills my nostrils.

"Hey Emily, I'm home," I call out, shrugging out of my damp black jacket. She appears in the living room, smiling gently.

"Hi Mom," she says, "How was your day?"

Ok, not the kind of welcome I was expecting. Emily isn't exactly the mature type – she's more content with throwing fits and being stubborn, rather than to just obey me and make life a whole lot easier. But tonight she seems different.

"I made dinner," she announces proudly. I smile at her.

"I can smell it," I reply, "You didn't have to though. I was gonna order us out something."

"It's done now," she replies, pushing her hands down into the back pockets of her light blue jeans. They're slung far too low for my liking, revealing a little too much midriff, and not covering enough skin. Her red top clings unattractively to her young body, and I'd much rather that she was still wearing the like of her Cookie Monster sweater rather than the tight fitting, glam-ed up clothes she chooses nowadays. But she's growing up and I have to constantly remind myself of that everyday. She's not my baby girl anymore, she's always telling me she doesn't need looking after, and that scares me in some ways. But on nights like tonight, when she actually chooses to be mature and responsible, I'm proud and perhaps a little relieved by the settled behaviour she exhibits.

"You ok Mom?" she asked, her tone concerned. I force a smile.

"I'm fine sweetie, just tired, it was a very long day ya know?" I say, running a hand through my wet hair. We both fall quiet and she watches me suspiciously, as if there's something she's trying to figure out. I feel like the teenager coming home to the overprotective mother. "I might just take a quick shower."

"Bosco called," she says as I turn for the bathroom, "He wanted to know where you were."

"Right…well I'll call him back later."

"He sounded worried," she states.

"I'll call him later Emily. I'm really not in the mood right now," I sigh.

"Did you two have a fight or something?" she asks. I turn to face her curious eyes. They gaze back at me, wide and innocent with swirls of chocolate brown surrounding the dark black pupils.

"No. I just…I can't talk to anyone right now," I say quietly. She nods.

"I'll save your dinner then. You might get hungry later," she replies, tugging on the sleeves of her top.

"I didn't mean you Honey," I say. She shakes her head.

"I know…but I'm tired anyway. I don't think I'd be much company either."

I smile again and walk over to her. I run a hand over her curly brown hair and plant a kiss on her forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too Mom," she replies, hugging my waist.

"G'night."

"Night," she says, pulling back. She heads for the bright kitchen and my smile fades as I move to my room, feeling too exhausted for a wash.

'_Cause you had a bad day  
__You're taking one down  
__You sing a sad song just to turn it around  
__You say you don't know, you tell me don't lie  
__You work at a smile and you go for a ride  
__You had a bad day, the camera don't lie  
__You're coming back down and you really don't mind  
__You had a bad day, you had a bad day_

I shrug out of my wet clothes and dress into a pair of dark sweats and grey pullover. I just want to crawl into bed and stay there for the rest of my life. I haven't felt this way in ages. My head is swamped with everything that has happened the past few month's. The shooting, Bosco waking up, Fred leaving me. It's causing this pounding inside my head and it won't go away. It's been like this for a while now but I just put it to the back of my mind. I just tried to ignore it. But today was another painful reminder that I can't just 'ignore it' anymore. I have to face it. And I don't think I'm strong enough for it.

With this worrying thought I slide up my bed, curling into a ball underneath the covers. I don't sleep straight away. I listen to Em as she gets her dinner and switches on the TV low enough so that it's just a muffled noise in my room. I listen as she rustles about for a few more minutes and then switches it off, heading for bed. She comes towards my room, and like a child, I close my eyes as she opens my bedroom door, letting in a beam of light. She walks in quietly and stops by my bed. Even though I can't see her, I can almost imagine her concerned expression, twiddling her thumbs together. I feel her lean over me, brushing the back of my head with her hand and she moves down, kissing my forehead.

"It'll be a better day tomorrow, I promise," she whispers, rubbing the spot she just kissed. "I love you Mommy."

She pulls back and sighs, leaving my room swiftly. I feel a tear trickle down my cheek and I wipe it away quickly, trying to will away the crying. But it doesn't work. I eventually let go and cry myself to sleep.

I don't know how long I was out for but it must have been a while. I'm woken to the soft sound of Emily's voice.

"Mom, Mom," she repeats. I sit up surprised by her presence.

"What? What's wrong?" I asked, confused and dazed. She stands in my doorway, dressed in her pink sheep pyjamas, rubbing her eyes.

"I think Bosco wants you," she says sleepily. My heart skips a beat.

"What?" I asked squinting at her in the light.

"Well I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to speak to Mrs Jackson, he's calling for you but throwing stones at her window."

"Oh God. Ok, thanks Em," I say. She yawns and nods, walking groggily back to her room. I sigh and swing my legs out the bed, making my way to the window. I push it open and stick my head out. The air outside is clammy and damp from the rain, which is drizzling gently against the pavement. Right enough, Bosco stands beneath Mrs Jackson's window, throwing stones up. I smile sub-consciously at the image of him in the rain, thinking he's at my window, chucking stones like a teenager.

_Well you need a blue sky holiday  
__The point is they laugh at what you say  
__And I don't need no carryin' on_

"Faith!" he calls, in a loud whisper.

"Bosco!" I call back. He looks over, startled.

"What the…Faith?" he asks looking up at me.

"Yeah. Bosco what are you doing?" I say, leaning on the frame. He looks back at Mrs Jackson's window, confused.

"Did you always live there?" he asks. I roll my eyes. "I'm sure this was your window…"

"Who's there?" a gruffly voice asks. Bosco looks back up at the window, greeted a rather sleep Mrs Jackson.

"Sorry Mrs Jackson," I call, "He's for me."

"Oh…shame. He's a cutie," she announces, winking at him. He looks back me, shifting uncomfortably under her gaze. I can't help but grin. "She ever leave you lonely baby, you can knock at my window anytime."

He grimaces and nods as she bites down her lower lip and heads back inside.

"I think you got a winner there," I comment, still smiling. He looks troubled by my suggestion and I smile again. He returns it with one of his one hundred watt smiles and my stomach dips. Remembering how angry I am at him, I quickly replace the smile with a frown. "What do you want?"

"I…uh…we need to talk."

"Do you know what time it is?" I snap.

"I um…no, sorry."

"It's…." I stop realising I don't even know the time, "It's late. _Very_ late."

We both fall quiet and I gaze down at him. He shuffles his feet off the pavement, and looks down at the ground.

"Stay there. I'll come to you," I inform him with a sigh. He looks up briefly and I shake my head as I pull back inside. I move into the hall.

"You goin' somewhere?" Emily asks. I turn to her. She stands by the bathroom gazing at me inquisitively.

"I'll be right back Em. I just gotta talk to Bosco for a sec," I reply. She nods and I can feel her eyes watch me as I slip out the front door. I sprint down the stairs, taking them two at a time. By the time I reach the bottom I'm almost a little out of breath and I stop before heading outside. It only takes me a moment before I push through the doors ready to face him. He stands on the steps gazing up. His beautiful eyes stare at me, wide and full of expectations. Maybe I'm not as ready as I thought.

_You had a bad day  
__You're taking one down  
__You sing a sad song just to turn it around  
__You say you don't know  
__You tell me don't lie  
__You work at a smile and you go for a ride  
__You had a bad day  
__The camera don't lie  
__You're coming back down and you really don't mind  
__You had a bad day_

"Hi," he breathes. I freeze on the spot, clenching my hands into fists as if ready to attack. Or as if I'm on guard.

"Hi," I reply gently.

"So…shit day huh?" he opens, smirking like a six-year-old. He never lost his boyish charm no matter how much maturity he gained over the years.

"Yeah," I agree, "Worse for you. You had to kiss Cruz."

He stops smiling instantly and looks more than a little hurt.

"I wanted to explain about that…"

"I'm listening." I tap my foot off the ground like an impatient youngster. It's the second time tonight my behaviour has mirrored that of a teenager.

"She kissed me Yokas. I swear."

"I didn't see you puttin' up much of a fight."

"I was surprised, that's it. Honest to God Faith. I didn't know you were there."

I snort disgusted by his assumption that I cared. But I did care. Perhaps a little too much. "Faith. It meant nothin'. I felt nothin'. She doesn't matter to me anymore…only you…"

"Only me what?"

"All I care about is your feelings Faith. I mean we're friends. And what you said earlier…it was confusing ya know?"

I take a sharp breath. I knew he had to bring that up. He looks at me as if he's expecting an explanation for my reckless question earlier in the locker rooms. I'm not sure if I can give him one just yet.

He sighs realising that I'm just not ready to broach that subject. "She means nothing to me Faith. She was upset and she wanted comforting. I wasn't expecting her to do that."

"But you didn't pull away!" I say shrilly, "You kissed her back. And don't even try to deny it. I saw you!"

"She's a pretty girl Faith. And I haven't been with anyone since…" he trails off, his fingers tracing the outline of his scar. I gulp and I suddenly feel ill, like I'm experiencing his pain. "I'm lonely. Can you understand that?"

More than he'll ever know.

_Sometimes the system goes on the brink  
__And the whole thing turns out wrong  
__You might not make it back and you know  
__That you could be well oh that strong  
__And I'm not wrong_

"But that woman shot me Bosco! She shot me!" I say moving down the steps. He bows his head, almost like he's ashamed. "How could you?"

"Faith. My best friend just asked me to do somethin' to them that I thought if I'd ever suggested she'd have kicked my ass around New York! I was…confused…"

"So you'd rather her than me? Is that what you're saying?" I ask, tears pricking my eyes. A cold breeze runs through me and I shiver involuntarily.

"No…yes…Faith. Jesus…you're my partner for Gods sakes."

I take a deep breath and fall down onto the step, pulling my knees up to my chest.

"Do you realise I've only ever been with one man in my life Bosco?"

I think my question catches him off guard because he slouches backwards and his brow furrows, obviously perplexed. "Fred. I met him in high school. I made a connection with him. I fell in love…"

He sits beside me, as ever, willing to listen to my outbursts. "He's the only man I've ever been with. I've only made two connections with any men. He was one and you were the other."

I catch him smile and I don't know why but I feel satisfied that he's happy knowing that. "When Fred left me I was scared. I mean I was scared _shitless_ Bos. And you weren't there. The only two men in my life had both left me. I had no one. I was _completely_ alone. And then you came back. And I felt like God had given back this little part of me…"

"Faith…" he says softly.

"You make it sound so easy. You just go out, find a girl you like and have sex with her, like it means nothing. I tried that. I tried and I found plenty of willing volunteers but I just couldn't do it. I need that connection first. And I thought I've already got that with someone. You. And I just thought that maybe this was the solution. I had someone in my life that meant more to me than anything. Maybe you were the one all along. All I needed to do was ask…"

"Faith…that's not how it works. You know that. You gotta work to find someone you connect with…not hit on your friends…" he says. But there's something in his tone. Like he's unsure of his own advice.

"I know that!" I cry out, "But it seemed like such a good idea…" I drag off my tears eventually finding a will of their own and stream down my face. "I'm just so lonely Bos…I just wanted to be close to someone…"

"Hey," he says resting his arm across my shoulders, "It's ok."

_So where is the passion when you need it the most  
__Oh you and I  
__You kick up the leaves and the magic is lost_

I cover my face with my hands. "It's not Bosco. It's never going to be ok. I've fucked everything up."

"No you haven't," he says, chuckling, "No. It's ok. We can just forget all about this yeah? We'll move on. Pretend it didn't even happen."

I look at him, my vision slightly blurred through the tears. He reaches out and wipes my wet cheeks with the sleeve of his jacket. "It's not the first time a woman as come to me in need of some 'sexual comfort'. I just must be irresistible to the opposite sex."

I hit him playfully on the shoulder and he winces in pain. "Damn. Yokas!"

I let out a loud laugh and my gaze falls to the ground. "Is that what Cruz wanted? Comforting?"

"Yeah…something like that," he says, following my gaze. I shiver again, the rain trickling down my back. "You cold?"

I rub my arms, through my sweater and watch as Bosco slides out of his NYPD jacket and places it on my shoulders. It feels warm and heavy. I can smell him off the fabric.

"You gotta stop stealing my stuff Yokas. I'm pretty sure the state will stop paying for it if they realise it's going to a girl in need of some sexual comforting." I can hear his tone, playful and mischievous, and I can't help but smile.

"Shut up Boscorelli," I warn gently.

"Irresistible," he repeats leaning back on the concrete steps.

"You're going the right way for an ass whooping."

"Am I now?" he says, raising my eyebrows, "You're gonna have to stop with all this innuendo."

"Oh you are so dead," I laugh grabbing his wrists. I pin him back on the steps climbing on top. He grins and looks down to where my body is positioned over his.

"I like it when a woman takes control," he whispers into my face. I shake my head, trying to suppress a smile.

"If I bang your head hard enough off these steps maybe you'll get amnesia and forget the whole thing," I say. He eyes me teasingly.

"Yeah…that's what you want."

My hands travel down his sides, my fingers tickling his skin. He squirms as he laughs trying his best to push me away. I continue to tickle him, showing no mercy.

"Ok, ok!" he pants, "I give up!"

My hair falls over my face, my poorly secured ponytail letting me down. I shake it back still grinning down at him. "I always win," I announce pushing myself off his body. He watches as I clamber to my feet, brushing down my sweats that are soaked from the wet ground.

"We cool then?" he asks. I nod.

"Yeah we're cool. I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"With bells on," he replies mimicking my words. I smirk.

"Goodnight Bosco," I say climbing up the steps.

"I might go find a woman. See if anyone else wants the Bosco 'good-lovin'."

"Night," I say again as if ignoring him.

"Maybe there's another lonely female out there…desperate for the attention of a hot guy…."

His words eventually fade off in my ears as I step inside the building, with a smile like I've never had before.

'_Cause you had a bad day  
__You're taking one down  
__You sing a sad song just to turn it around  
__You say you don't know, you tell me don't lie  
__You work at a smile and you go for a ride  
__You had a bad day, you've seen what you like  
__And how does it feel for one more time  
__You had a bad day, you had a bad day  
__Had a bad day  
__Had a bad day _


	8. The Past Revisited

"_But I can't read you/I wish I knew what's going through your mind/can't touch you/your heart defending/I get left behind" _**I Can't Read You – Daniel Bedingfield. **

"Hey Bos," Faith says, "I need you a second."

I turn to her and grin, hoisting my gym bag further up my shoulder. She sprints after me into the locker rooms, her face flustered. "What's up?"

She runs a hand through her strawberry blonde hair, pushing it back from her face. She doesn't look as tired today. Her eyes are wide and bright, there's a gentle blush across her cheeks, and her hair is washed and styled. She returns my smile and stops in the doorway.

"Do you remember the Jenkins case last year? The one you and I worked on. We were looking out for the killer?" she says, rushing through her sentence.

"Yeah course. He raped, tortured and killed about fifteen different girls in the space of five month's. It's not a case you forget," I say, with a sigh. She nods and holds out a thick folder. I take it from her and flick through the pages. Images of the girls flash as I turn each sheet and, despite myself, I scrunch up my face disturbed by the photos. "So…what's wrong?"

She sighs heavily and raises her eyebrows. "Guess who's back again?"

I frown, confused. "Jenkins was put to jail for life Faith. No chance of parole. Can't be him," I remind her. She rolls her eyes and snaps the folder back off me.

"Well I know that, I'm not stupid," she replies, "But there have been three new cases in the past month, each girl done the same way."

She begins to look through the file, heading for the last few pages. "Look," she says stepping close to me, "Each girl. Beaten, then raped right? They were tortured the exact same way as Jenkins did it. Cut wrists, face, knees, two stab wounds in each lung, then the cut throat."

I shrug, still staring at the words on the page. "So? It may just be a coincidence."

She shakes her head, frustrated by my refusal to accept her suggestion. "We both learned in this job there's no such thing. Look," she sighs, pointing at the page, "Each body was then found mutilated, but all had one thing missing…"

"The head," I finish for her, taking the folder into my hands, "So…what ? A copycat?"

She looks up at me, her face dangerously close to mine. She doesn't seem perturbed by our close proximity and so I try to ignore the pounding of my heart in my chest. "That's what I'm thinkin'. The case did get a lot of publicity back then. Maybe it's another glory hunter, wanting some attention. I dunno…"

I flick to the photo and feel my stomach churn at the grotesque image presented. "What did you want me for?" I ask, closing it up. She shrugs, digging her hands into the back pockets of her jeans.

"I thought you could help. You made it your personal mission last year to catch Jenkins's. You know this case better than Jelly and I put together. I was just wonderin' if you'd mind if I…." She drags off stepping back from my body. I immediately miss her warmth, and scold myself inwardly for the feeling.

"If you…"

"If I request that you help me and Jelly on this case. I understand if you don't want to it's just I could really use your help…"

"Sure. You sort it out with Lieu and I'll help out," I say before she can finish. Her jaw hangs open, a little shocked by my readiness to help. She shakes her head gently, a smile forming on her attractive face.

"Oh…ok then. Thank you," she replies softly. I nod forcing a quick smile. She turns to leave, clutching the file against her chest.

"Hey Faith," I call out. She cranes her neck around, her body still pointing towards the exit.

"Yeah?" she breathes, blinking several times.

"Are we ok?" I ask cautiously, "You know…after yesterday…and last night…"

She looks annoyed that I've asked. "Yeah. Course we are. You know your personal life is none of my business. _You and Cruz_ aren't any of my business."

"Right… but we're ok?" I ask again. She's clearly avoiding my question.

"I said yes," she snaps back, her eyes narrowing, "I'd really like if we could just forget about yesterday Bosco. Start a fresh."

"Sure, already forgotten," I reply, letting my gym bag fall to the ground.

"Right then, I'll see you later," she says, moving out of the door.

"Later," I murmur, staring after her.

I take a deep breath, bracing myself against the steel lockers. Why has everything changed so much? Faith and I used to be so comfortable around each other, and it's all different now. I have to watch what I say to her, I have to think before I speak (something I've _never_ been any good at) and suddenly I'm aware of myself if I get too close to her. It's probably just because of what she said yesterday. It's just unnerved me a bit.

I guess I never thought she'd even think about me in that way, let alone suggest that we… I don't know why I just can't forget. It seems stupid. I mean, she's explained why she said what she did, and why she was so upset when she saw me with Cruz. Why can't I stop thinking there was somethin' else behind it?

This is Faith for Gods sake. My Faith. She's just lonely. And perhaps a little depressed. We never saw each other in that way before, why start now? It just complicates things. Sure I find her attractive – she is a beautiful woman, but that's it. There's nothing else there. No feelings. No nothing.

And her request for me to work with her again is perfectly innocent. I mean, all she wants is for us to get back to how we were. And that's fair enough. That's exactly what I want to. So why suddenly do I see her as a woman? She's always been a friend, a partner and hell, I even counted her as family once, but I've never seen her as just a woman.

It seemed inappropriate.

So why start now? I push down that little nagging voice in my head saying that she's the only person in this world who sees me for what I really am and perhaps what she said yesterday about our connection wasn't total crap after all…I push it down and away, swallowing hard.

No good can come of it.

I've never been sentimental. I see things how they are. I've never been in love and I don't intend to ever be. Sure I've loved women before, even Faith, but I've never been _in_ love with a woman before. I wouldn't know how to act if that were to happen.

Love complicates things. It's the one emotion that I hate most of all. It makes your brain turn total mush; your common sense is thrown out the window…why would anyone want to be in love? It's beyond me. If I want to ever be a senseless robot that follows a girl about like a puppy dog I'll fall in love.

If I want, fun, laughs, and hell, great sex, I'll carry on as I am. A different girl each week. The steadiness of a constant girlfriend may be comforting to some, but personally I find it boring. I don't want security or stableness. I want excitement and enjoyment. The thrill of the chase is great but anything after that bores me.

So I'll stay I am. Happy and alone. I'm better off that way. At least then no one will get hurt. Because that's another thing. Anyone I get involved with gets hurt. It's just something that's in me. I manage to get everyone I care about in shit. Take Faith for instance. She helped me out with Cruz and got fuckin' shot! And sure maybe something as dramatic as that may never happen again but I'm not takin' that chance. I nearly lost Faith through depending on her. I got her hurt and nearly killed. So no. I won't depend on or need anyone else again.

Sully bustles through the door interrupting my train of thought. I nod to acknowledge his presence.

"Boscorelli," he says, his voice gruff and dry. He looks like shit. His hair is messed and his uniform untidy

"Late night?" I ask stuffing my bag into my locker. He grunts, checking his appearance in the mirror.

"Double shift," he replies, washing his hands. I pull out my uniform and sit it on the bench.

"Tough luck Sul," I say, shrugging out of my black leather coat.

"I need the money anyways," he replies, "What about you? Just getting off?"

"Just getting in," I say. He glances at me through the mirror. "Yeah…Faith's requesting that I work with her on a case."

"I heard," he replies, straightening up. I frown, perplexed. "Saw her at the desk chatting to Lieu."

I nod.

"You lookin' forward to workin' with her again?" he asks. I unbutton my shirt and shrug.

"No big deal. I'm not really bothered," I lie, "As long as I'm helpin' her with suspects and not with paperwork I don't care."

Sully laughs, the wrinkles on his face clearly visible under the lighting of the locker rooms. "Uniformed officers workin' with detectives…you'll be livin' at the desk Boscorelli!"

I sigh and roll my eyes. "I better not. I'm just gonna be there to help out if anything gets outta hand with any of her suspects or if she needs my opinion or somethin'."

"Or if she needs you to back her up with Jelly," he says.

"That too."

"It's good that you two are workin' together again," he comments, gazing at me, "You make a good team."

"Yeah," I reply, "We're not bad now."

"I'll see you later Bosco, I'm headin' back out there," he announces slipping into his coat.

"Bye," I say as he leaves me alone in the locker rooms wondering the real reason behind Faith's request.


	9. Trials and Tribulations

Thank you all for the replies. I hope you're still following this one, I think I've a fair idea now where it's going! xxx

I catch sight of Bosco out the corner of my eye. He's coming in the front doors, perp handcuffed and being pushed along. I watch as he pulls him towards a cell, stuffing him in and grinning as the criminal hits the bars aggressively.

"The angrier you get, the worse my report is," he says winking, "You have a good day now."

He turns around and notices me for the first time, giving a wide smile. "Hey Yokas!" he says, sprinting over to me.

"I spoke to Swersky," I inform him, "He's done up all the paper work and stuff. You're with me again."

"Good…ah…yeah…" he trails off, his gaze falling to the floor.

"Somethin' wrong?" I ask, trying my best to sound indifferent. He shrugs.

"I was thinkin', me workin' with you and Jelly. Maybe I'm better out there on the streets, you know, what can I offer to this?" he says, digging his hands into his trouser pockets. I frown.

"You were up for it earlier, what's changed?"

"Nothin'. I was just thinkin'. I mean you probably know this case inside out, I just wouldn't want to get in the way," he explains. I examine him closely, trying to decipher what he's actually telling me. He rubs the back of his neck, like he's frustrated or something.

It then hits me.

He doesn't _want _to be with me.

"Oh…ok…" I drag off, my stomach suddenly turning. I don't want to lose my best friend and somehow I think that's happening. I never wanted any of this.

"It's not that I don't want to work with you," he tries, gesturing the palm of his hand out. I stare at the ground afraid that if I look up he'll see me for what I really am. A vulnerable woman who's scared and alone and desperate to have her best friend back.

Or worse he'll see the tears I feel prick against my eyes.

Way to be strong Faith.

"No, I get it," I say waving him off, "It's fine."

I keep my head down, my eyes boring holes into the tiled floor.

"Look at me Faith," he orders with a sigh. I pretend I don't hear him as if that is in some way plausible despite the fact he standing a few mere inches in front of me. "Look at me," he repeats.

I guess I can't avoid him forever. I slowly raise my head, my gaze locking with those startlingly sweet eyes of his. "It's not you ok?"

"Bosco it's ok. I know I've screwed up…"

"Hey!" he says intercepting me before I can even begin, "You didn't screw up anything right? If anything this is my doing."

"How do you work that?" I say, now staring at my hands. I grind my heel into the tile, shuffling it against the surface, causing long black scorch marks to appear on the polish.

"If I hadn't have kissed Cruz…hell if I hadn't got involved with her in the first place," he says with a sigh, "I thought we were gonna forget about the other day?"

I want to shake him. Why the hell can't he see how embarrassed I am about it all? What on this earth is wrong with him? Is he really that clueless? I just want for us to get back to normal.

"It was a mistake, I wasn't thinking," I mumble.

"Exactly. Faith... I understand about what you said ok? I get it! You were lonely and missed me like mad," he says, exaggerating on his last words. He looked up to catch my grin but I hope that strictness is still evident in my eyes. "Anyway. I understand. And although you may never truly get over me…"

"Bosco…" I warn, mildly amused.

"I think we can put it past us. I mean after twelve years of friendship…if we can't move past this…"

I nod, silently agreeing with him.

"So…we a'right?" he asks. I raise my eyebrows a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. His fist hangs in the air waiting for the seal of approval. I clench my hand up and hit against his gently.

"Yeah…we a'right," I reply mimicking his tone. I chuckle shaking my head. "You know you're not right in the head don't ya?"

"It's why you love me," he responded winking.

"So you still not gonna help me out on this case?" I ask, feeling a little more at ease now.

"Well that depends," he says, "Do you actually want my help or is it just 'cause you want for us to move on?"

"Does it matter?" I counter. He gazes at me for a second and for that second it's like he can see right through me. Right through my clothes, my skin, my soul – and it's like he sees me. I mean _really_ sees me. And I feel comfortable.

"I guess not," he replies, chuckling. "But I have a few ground rules."

I groan rolling my eyes as I turn away from him. "I'm not doin' any paper work…I'm not gonna be you or Jelly's errand boy… and I don't want you usin' me for any jobs you hate. I suppose if you want you can use me in some other way though…"

I throw him a withering glance and his jaw snaps shut. "Ok, we're finished with the jokes about that then huh?"

I nod and he nods along with me. "Thought so."

"Bosco I honestly want your help ok? You won't be anyone's errand boy. I won't let you be," I smile, swiping a file off the desk. "But I have a few rules of my own."

"Shoot."

"You _will_ be on time, you _will_ listen to what I tell you, you _will not_ hit any perp no matter how much they piss you off, you _will not_ jeopardise this case in any way. You _will _pay attention to me when I'm telling you somethin'. And finally you can wear uniform or plain clothes or whatever the hell you want, as long as your doin' your job right," I say finishing in a very matter-off-fact way.

He grins, saluting me. "Yes M'am!"

"And Bosco, you will not mock me," I add, backing away from him.

"Is there ever a time when I have?" he jokes. I can't help but smile at him. All his boyish charm and innocence seems to come back in that one cheeky smile he gives me and it feels good. It feels familiar.

"I'll see you later Bosco, and you better be on time," I call out, pushing open the office door.

"What? What did you say? I couldn't hear you over all the feminists giving _their_ speeches!"

I decide it's better to let him have the last word than to get drawn into another sparring match and so close the door, grinning from ear to ear.


	10. Back To Basics

Thanks for all your lovely responses and reviews. Keep 'em coming and again if you think I can improve anywhere in this story please let me know! xxx

I can't believe I'm actually in this early. I have never been this early for work in my life and yet here I sit, ready and perhaps a little eager to work with Faith today. The unfamiliarity of her and Jelly's office unnerves me slightly and for one terrifying moment I feel out of my depth. 'Come on Boscorelli, pick yourself up' I tell myself.

I don't honestly know what I'm frightened of. It's not like I haven't done this kind of thing before so why in the heck I am so nervous now? I stand awkwardly in the middle of the room, my eyes darting over Jelly's unkempt desk and Faith's much more organised work space. Well at least one thing is familiar. I smile, imagining her sitting there day after day.

She's good at this job - I see that now. She's much more comfortable here than she'll ever be on the streets. This is what she does best. I feel better knowing she's doing what she loves. It must be a real relief to get away from me.

I hear the muffled sound of laughter and the pair bustles through the doors, coffees in hand ready to start. Both fall silent as they see me and I suddenly feel even more out of place than I did when I was alone.

But Faith smiles and it all changes. I feel safe and secure. Her hair is clipped back from her face, the odd stray strand wandering across her eyes. She looks…pretty.

"You're early!" she exclaims, obviously impressed.

"You're not," I counter. She places her cup on her desk, along with a few files she was holding and tried her best to frown, not quite making it. "Mornin' Jelly," I say finally acknowledging the man. He holds up his cup, saluting me as he manoeuvres around his desk.

"Bosco," he says eventually pushing some rubbish aside to make room for his coffee.

"You have to excuse Jelly, it's still early and he's like Neanderthal man in the morning," she explains frowning at her less than hospitable partner. He pulls a face at her and she gives an over-dramatic sigh. "You see what I have to put up with?"

"Women," he mutters, "You don't hear me complaining when she's going through he 'time of the month'."

I can't help but laugh and I glance back at Faith. She stands, pouting her full lips, and hooking her fingers into the loops of her jeans on either side of her waist. "You men…" she mutters, "You all stick together."

Jelly however isn't really listening to her and is now intent on finding something that is somewhere amongst his garbage and files.

"Have you seen my doughnut Yokas?" he asks her, exasperated. She frowns, she too searching through a stack of paper on her desk.

"What? Do I look like your mother?" she mutters, rolling her eyes at me. I force a quick smile.

"No but the last time my food went missin' guess where it turned up?"

I stand there staring at Faith, tracing the outline of her face with my eyes. Her skin looks so soft, it's creamy white texture radiating in the desk lighting. She's dressed causally in jeans, a black blouse and fitted jacket – totally professional and yet completely stunning.

"Boscorelli?" Jelly's voice pulls me back to him.

"Yeah?"

"I hope it's not gonna be like this all the time," he mumbles, resuming his search.

"Like what?" Faith asks, clearly not paying attention. I glance towards Jelly who simply shrugs and as I turn back I'm faced with Faith's deep blue eyes. "Like what?"

"You always stealin' my God damn food," Jelly intercepts. I sigh, grateful that he's not a total tactless idiot. She takes a sharp breath, running the tips of her fingers over her forehead.

"Ok Jelly. I threw out your Goddamn doughnut ok?" she snaps, shaking her head at me. I feel a bit like piggy-in-the-middle. I turn to Jelly, who is absolutely horrified by her confession.

"You…you threw out my chocolate dinky doughnut?" he stammers.

"Jelly, it was three days old!" she says, frustrated, "It was beginning to mould!"

"It was still my doughnut! What gives you the right to throw out _my_ doughnut?"

"Excuse me for caring whether or not you get food poisoning, next time, I just won't bother!" she snaps.

"Women," he repeats under his breath. She stops her frantic search and I see her press her lips together like she's ready to explode. I remember _that_ look. I've been on the receiving end of that look many a time. Very briefly I feel glad that I don't work with her anymore.

"Bosco would you help me interview someone?" she asks, ignoring her new partner. I hear Jelly grunt and say something about 'favourites' but his voice is so low I can't even catch on.

"Uh…yeah sure," I reply, smiling feebly. She returns it and mouth's a 'sorry'. I shake my head, holding up my hands.

"We'll be back soon," she informs Jelly, moving swiftly passed him. I follow her out, feeling quite helpless in this situation. I'm too afraid to even look Jelly's direction.

We move out into the lobby, and I fall into her step. "Is everything ok with you and Jelly?"

She smiles. "Oh…yeah. He's just in one of his moods," she replies.

"Nothin' to do with me is it?"

"No!" she cries, dismissing my suggestion, "Don't worry about him yeah? I'll bring him back another doughnut and he'll be good as new."

"So who are we gonna see?" I ask, holding open the door for her.

"One of the girls boyfriends. He's a well-known gang leader who's very upset by the death of his _pregnant_ girlfriend, I think he might be able to help us out," she says breezing down the steps.

"What makes you think he'll help us?" I ask frowning.

"It's Tariq," she replies, grinning.

"That big softie?" I gasp, following her to the car. She unlocks it with her keys, sliding inside. I slip into the passenger seat, grabbing my belt immediacy. I also remember how she drives… "Someone killed Jacinta?"

She switches on the revving engine, which gently fades into a purr.

"Yeah…she wasn't a bad girl," she says, her brow furrowing. She pulls out, indicating left at the junction.

"No…just a druggy…and a prostitute," I finish raising my eyebrows. She sighs, her hand gripping the leather of the steering wheel.

"Give her a break eh Bos? She didn't know any other life," she says. I catch her eyes. They look sad and perhaps mournful for this girl. It takes me only a moment to realise Jacinta wasn't far off Emily's age.

I nod.

"Bos…whoever's doin' this…it's worse than before…I mean…Bosco I've seen some shit in my time on this job…" she trails off, gazing out the windscreen.

"We'll get whoever's doin' this Faith," I tell her, "Hell with me on your side, we may even be finished up by the end of the week!"

She laughs, despite herself.

I regret that moment back in the office when I thought it was best not working with her. I regret it because that could never be what's best. This is where I belong. With Faith.


	11. Bend And Break

I indicate into the school, concentrating on manoeuvring the car around the sharp bend. I don't want to show myself up in front of Bosco – he's always complaining about my "terrible" driving.

Like he can do any better.

_Men_.

I'm right. He's watching me fixatedly, grinning as I narrowly miss the curb. I roll my eyes, disappointed at myself. "Don't say a word," I warn, careful not to even look his way. I hear him chuckle and I shake my head. He can never just let it be…

"What makes you think Tariq Combs will be here?" he asks. I glance toward him, shrugging.

"Gathering the troops. This is war now Bosco. Whoever was stupid enough to do this to Tariq's girl is gonna get what's comin' to 'em," I reply, pulling into a tight parking space.

"Do you think it's a rival gang?" he asks, frowning.

"No. I think it's someone who doesn't know what they've just done."

He falls quiet – a sure sign he agrees with me. I make a move to get out of the car, tugging at the cool metal of the handle. The feel of Bosco's hand on my thigh stops me, sending shivers down my spine.

I stare down at where his hand rests, gulping hard.

_Please move, please_…

"Faith," he says softly. I look up at his face, his eyes expressive. Expressive of what I'm not entirely sure.

"Yeah?" I say, clearing my throat, feigning a nonchalance I don't really feel.

"It's good to be workin' with you again."

I don't really hear his words. I just want him to move his Goddamn hand. Not that it's making me uncomfortable – quite the opposite. I feel _too_ comfortable. I stare down at my thigh and he follows my gaze.

As if reading my mind, he pulls away like a man burnt. An involuntary sigh escapes my lips and I'm sure he catches it.

I laugh, to break the silence. "I thought you'd be glad to get rid of me," I say, pushing open my car door. He follows my lead stepping out into the midday sun. He looks at me considering something, his lips quirked into some sort of a smile. I don't like it.

Not when I can't understand what's behind that smile.

He shrugs out of his leather jacket, obviously feeling the scorching heat. He clearly decided to wear street clothes.

A change at work is good I suppose. His loose navy t-shirt and jeans hardly look appropriate but I say nothing. God if only I had the power to dress him…I'd have him looking so good. Not that he doesn't look good already-

No! Stop Faith! Don't go there. It's not worth the grief.

"Yokas!" I hear him call. He's half way across the parking lot, nearing the huge grey building they call a school. I think it looks more like a prison. "Come on daydreamer." I flick down my sunglasses, which are positioned on top of my head, over my eyes, relieving them from the glaring sunlight.

"Coming," I call out, slamming the car door shut. Instinctively I lock it. One of the annoying quirks of being a police officer; you never forget safety.

He waits like a gentleman by the steps, although his impatient glare hurries me along. No matter how hard he tries he will never shirk some of his little immature personality traits.

I lead him around to the basketball court around the back, young kids filling the space. Some sort of loud music blares from a speaker system on the side of the court we're passing, young girls dancing, young guys watching.

Clothing is virtually non-existent, and the excuse for this would probably be the weather although I doubt if that's the real reason. Bosco's probably really enjoying the show. I steal a glance at him to confirm my suspicions. To my surprise his head is hanging low, avoiding any eye contact with the young strident girls, his hands dug into his jean pockets.

My eyes scan the crowd for any familiar face and Teddy comes into view. He's actually quite hard to miss. He stands at least five inches taller than the crowd, with a heavy build and dreadlocked hair.

He reminds me of some cuddly black character in the movies. But his personality is in stark contrast. He's tuff, violent and intelligent. A deadly combination in my view. He's been in and out of prisons more times than he has actually attended school, and that is not an exaggeration. He meets my gaze and nods. Filtering through the kids I make my way to where he stands, occasionally glancing back at Bosco to make sure he's not gotten lost.

"Detective Yokas," Teddy says, "What can I do for you today?"

I see him note Bosco's presence, a frown forming on his face. "Oh look! It's Robin!"

I smile despite myself, looking round at Bosco who seems less impressed by the young guy's comment. Quickly I avert my gaze back to Teddy.

"Hey Teddy, it's not you I'm looking for," I tell him, brushing my hair out of my face as I slide the glasses back onto my head. "Tariq. Do you know where I can find him?"

"Depends," he replies, squinting in the sunlight, "Why you lookin' for him?"

"I just want to talk to him about Jacinta's murder Teddy, that's all," I say earnestly. He shrugs, clearly not wanting to be of any help.

"Hey Coolio," Bosco's voice cuts in, his words dripping with sarcasm "Listen we ain't after you or your petty drug ring today ok? We just wanna talk to Tariq. Now why don't you run along like a good little messenger boy and get him for us huh?"

"What'd you call me?" Teddy scowls, pushing forward towards Bosco. "I ain't no ones messenger boy!" His friends hold back his arms, while I place one hand on Bosco's chest, directing him away from the overgrown teenager.

"Would you just calm down!" I order Bosco, his eyes searing with anger.

"It's jag-offs like this that make your investigation harder Faith!" he spits back at me, "You just gonna stand here and take it?"

"Bosco I am dealing with this situation," I say trying to keep my voice monotone. I turn back to Teddy and smile weakly. "Come on Teddy, you know I like you and your crew, I just wanna talk with Tariq."

He glances away, his jaw contracting. Sweat pours down his skin, staining his grey t-shirt that hangs out of his baggy faded jeans. "Please," I say softly. He looks back at me and grins.

"You know I'd do anything for you Yokas," he says. I hear Bosco grunt something but I choose to ignore it.

"Thanks Ted," I breathe. I'm sure I must look a right state. I feel beads of sweat roll down my neck, and fan my probably blazing red face with my hand. He turns and heads through the crowd of dancing teens and I follow his lead. I can't help but watch them dance. They seem so carefree and young here. A part of me wishes it could be like this all the time for them. The other, more rational, part knows that it isn't.

"You like hip-hop Detective Yokas?" he asks noticing me stare at the kids. I chuckle.

"Couldn't even tell you what it is," I reply. He laughs, his voice gruff.

"I'm sure you're a cute dancer, you have to show us yer moves sometime," he teases, giving me a playful wink. We step nearer a brick wall, the shade relieving some of the intense heat. "Listen, he's not really himself ok? He's uh…if he says somethin' he probably doesn't mean it a'right?"

I nod. "It's ok Teddy, I get it."

I rub my hand across the back of my neck realising just how warm I am. Tariq comes into view, leaning back against the wall, cigarette in hand. He's talking to a few of his mates. He looks different somehow. He's a beefy kind of kid, all brawn and no brains basically. He always thinks with his fists rather than his head, and it's a shame because if he didn't I think he could be something special. He notices me and smiles. I return it, slowly approaching him. The noise from the kids still pounds in my ears. They stand just a few metres from the wall, still in full view, but they seem a million miles away.

"Hi Tariq," I say, barely in a whisper, "How you doin'?"

His mates scuttle off in different directions.

He chuckles, his smoky breath swirling in the air. "I've been beta. You?"

"Oh…you know," I reply, a little unsure of myself. He places his cigarette between his lips, digging his hands into his pockets. "I'm sorry Tariq. For Jacinta. I'm workin' her case…"

"Yeah. I know," he interrupts, pulling his cigarette from his mouth. He throws it to the ground, stomping it out with the toe of his trainers.

I frown, bewildered by his statement.

"How…"

"Doing a bit o' research," he says, his gaze cutting to me. Feeling the intense scrutiny of his stare I shift uncomfortably on my feet. I feel Bosco move behind me. I didn't notice until now but he's unbearably close. His breath laps against my neck, his body heat warring mine. I notice Tariq look towards him. "You're back," he states.

"Yeah…you miss me?" Bosco asks grinning. I hear Tariq chuckle, shaking his head.

"How could I not man?"

"Tariq I need some information," I cut in. His gaze falls to the ground.

"No can do Yokas," he replies simply. I sigh.

"Come on Tariq, I know you know somethin'. You gotta help me out here. Help me put this guy away for good."

He laughs bitterly. "That's not what I want for this guy. I want him to feel exactly what Jacinta felt when he did what he did to her."

"I understand, believe me I do," I say. He glowers at me.

"You ain't got the first idea."

"Tariq…please…don't do anything that'll get one of your crew put away. I don't want to have to arrest one of 'em," I tell him, gulping hard. He laughs again.

"What you think I'm gonna get one of my boys to do this for me? Nah…I wanna see his face when he gets what's comin' to him," he says, hoarsely.

"Tariq…" I breathe. He looks to Bosco again.

"I wanna talk to _him_ alone," he says nodding towards my former partner. I frown.

"If you wanna talk to him, I have to be here," I say defiantly. He shakes his head.

"This ain't no demand situation Yokas. I got the goods, you gotta play my game a'right?"

"No! No Tariq it's not 'a'right'! Jacinta's dead and I don't have time for your games!" I yell my maternal side getting the better of me. His temper flares, his nostrils expanding as he rushes me, slamming me hard against the wall. I feel my head make contact with the brickwork and I wince. Bosco is shocked but he doesn't delay in dragging Tariq off me, throwing him back.

"Take it easy!" he barks at him. He turns to me, concerned. "You ok?"

I nod. "I'm fine."

"I know this ain't no game Yokas! My girl's dead! My kid is dead! Don't you come up in here hollering at me! You got no right!" he spits out, gesturing wildly. Bosco approaches him at a furious speed, pushing him backwards. Tariq isn't ready for the attack and stumbles over his own feet.

"Calm down Combs!" he orders, "I'm warning you or I'm gonna throw your ass in jail for the night!"

Breathing heavily the young male straightens up, glaring towards me.

"Can't you keep your bitch on her leash?" he retorts. Bosco's cheeks, already red and bright, flush with even more colour and his fist connects with Tariq's face.

"Bosco!" I cry out, fighting for air.

"That's police brutality!" Tariq announces, cradling his cheek in his hand. I push my way past Bosco, placing one hand on Tariq's back, the other heading for his injured face. He flinches at the contact and for one terrifying second he looks like he's ready to lash out again.

"Let me see," I say gently, pushing down his hand. I trace my fingers over the red mark, sighing like an over-protective mother. He meets my gaze, his own teary and dejected.

"We were gonna get our own crib me and her. Gonna raise the baby. I was gonna get a proper job. But she's so Goddamn stubborn! I told her not to go out last weekend, I told her!" he says to me. I place both hands on his shoulders.

"I know Tariq, I know," I say hushing him, "Please let me help."

"Let me talk to Boscorelli alone," he counters, staring into my eyes. I recoil straightening back up. I look back at my partner, whose eyes are wild, like he's ready for a fight. I turn to him, placing both hands on my hips.

"He's angry Bos ok? Just be patient please?" I beg. He avoids my eyes at all costs, his own gaze settling on Tariq behind me.

"Yeah…"he mumbles. I place one hand on his chest, my fingers gently grazing against his toned muscles through his t-shirt. Blood pulsates through my hand and up my arm, causing an upsurge in the rate of my heartbeat. The already sweltering heat feels like it's been brought up about ten degrees and I find it hard to catch my breath.

"Please Bos…for me," I whisper gazing up at him. He stares back down at me, his eyes boring holes in mine.

"Yeah…course I'll be," he replies, gulping. I smile feebly and turn back to Tariq, my hand losing contact with Bosco. There is a tingle in my fingers, and I realise I miss him a little.

"Same goes for you, no fighting or I'll have to call both your mother's," I joke rather lamely, shaking off my dizzy head.

"Thanks Yokas," he says, nodding at me.

"No problem," I reply leaving both guys alone to either talk or fight it out themselves.


	12. The Truth and Other Lies

I watch as she strides off, back into the sunlight. A few of Tariq's crew begin talking to her, almost like she's one of them. I smile inwardly and wish that I could have a bit of her gregarious nature. Instead well I'm…I'm me. Tariq shuffles his feet, kicking against the stonewall.

The usually verbose and loud kid stands quiet staring at the ground as if something huge is about to happen. Like it's about to open up and swallow him hole. He's absolutely massive and could easily take me, but I guess a part of him is just too tired to fight.

Yokas and I have known him through most of our stint in the 55. Ever since he was about eight or nine. It makes me feel old seeing him now. He was always a cheeky little bastard, too much mouth and not enough action. The he hit thirteen and he matched his talkative ways with more action than was required. He's been involved in almost every crime I can think of – assault, robbery, drugs…and yet somehow, in some sick twisted way, I think of him as just a kid. A kid who got on the wrong side of the tacks. I think I'm beginning to sound like Yokas.

He runs a hand over his shaved head and rests it against the wall. "You a detective now?" he asks suddenly, without looking up. I clear my throat.

"No. Just helpin' out Yokas," I inform him, pacing to the opposite wall. He nods a smile ghosting his face.

"She reminds me o' my Mom," he tells me, gazing in her direction, "She acts like her. Always seen some sorta good in me."

"Well that's Yokas for ya, always assumin' the best of everybody. You think being a cop for twelve year would've changed her…me…I see people for what they really are," I say, staring at him. His gaze connects with mine, that eerie smile still etched on his face.

"That's why I wanted to talk to you and not her," he replies, "She's gonna try and stop me no matter what. You…I think you might just wanna see my ass in jail."

I laugh, half amused, half disappointed. "Well…I wouldn't mind either way."

"She's good with the tough love though," he says still looking at Faith, "I think if I did kill somebody for this she wouldn't hesitate with lockin' me up."

"I agree," I say, "She's a good cop."

"Detective," Tariq amends hastily, cutting his eyes to my face.

"Yeah…"

"I don't wanna give any information Boscorelli. Just walk away now, 'cause I ain't givin' ya nothin'," he tells me, his tone ominous.

"You know I can't do that Combs," I reply with sigh.

"Listen to me for one second a'right?" he says, stepping forward, "I saw how you acted when I went all up on your girl there…"

I frown not exactly pleased with his choice of statement but I figure it's best to let him continue. "Could you imagine if someone were to kill her? And I ain't threatening or nothin' I'm just saying….wouldn't you wanna catch the mother fucker that did it? Wouldn't you want to hurt him just so he could feel the tenth of pain she felt…"

I listen to him and turn my head towards Yokas. She stands with the girls, talking as if they were her own kids, laughing with them as they attempt to take her out to dance. A smile spreads across my face. And I'm not sure why. I guess I just like it when she's smiling. She looks towards me her grin fading, but her eyes still sparkling in the light. I take a breath feeling the intensity of her gaze and turn back to Tariq.

"Wouldn't you wanna kill 'em Boscorelli?" he asks, his voice verging on emotional, "The woman_ I_ love is dead. _My_ world is comin' down around me. Just 'cause some fuckin' lil' rich kid with too much time on his hands got bored…now tell me _Officer_. What would you do if it were the other way round and you were standin' in my place today?"

I stare over at Faith, who's in the process of striping out of her restricting jacket, the heat obviously getting to her. Sweat pours down her chest heading down the v of her white t-shirt that's clinging to her sticky body. She pulls back her hair, fanning her face with her hand. I feel my breath hitch and I turn back to Tariq.

"Now which "fuckin' rich kid" would this be Combs?" I ask, diverting his attention back to the situation at hand. He looks startled by my choice to hear that part of his sentence. He mumbles something, digging into his pockets for what I can only guess to be a cigarette.

Or a gun.

The way he's feeling now I wouldn't put it passed him. "Come on Combs, I get what you're saying to me alright. And trust me I wanna kill this ass wipe with my own bare hands, but I gotta do this Yokas' way."

He chuckles and I can almost feel the sarcasm oozing from his body language. He however chooses not to react to my statement. "Here man, come on. Help me out. I tell ya what…give me eight days. If we don't get this guy in eight days I'll hold him fuckin' down while you do whatever it is you need to, to make yourself feel better."

He considers my offer, pacing the ground his head hanging low. "Six."

"Six what?"

"Six days. That's what I'll give you. But if you don't catch the little shit head by then I swear to you Boscorelli…"

"Ok! I get it. Six days… now where can I find this guy that you thinks involved?"

He tells me about what he knows, rushing through the information. I'm afraid he'll recoil and decide it ain't worth it but he doesn't. He gives me an address and I thank him as I move to Yokas.

I squint unable to see her in the crowd. Music blares in my ears and I look over to where a few teens have gathered. A small number of kids dance in the middle and my eyes scan the faces searching for hers. Finally my gaze rests on Faith, sitting on the hood of a black convertible. A young, dark guy has her by the hands and stands out in front of her moving to the music, trying to convince her to join in. She's giggling, shaking her head and tries to break free from his grasp. He eventually nods, defeated and she looks over to where I stand. She smiles and jumps down, grabbing her jacket off the hood.

She skips over to me, her face red and flustered. "How'd it go?" she ask breathlessly.

"Do you really think it's a good idea to be socialising with these guys?" I say frowning. She rolls her eyes and pouts her lips. "I mean you wanna show some sort of authority over 'em. You want them to respect ya…"

"Bosco. They're just kids, and I'd rather have them likin' me than thinkin' I'm a threat," she tells me, raising both eyebrows, "Now…what ya got for me?"

I sigh. "One of his boys saw her talkin' to a white kid outside Lily's joint on 75th the night she was killed," I inform her as she falls into my step.

"Lily's on 75th?" she asks, her brow furrowing. "That's a pretty good neighbourhood for Jacinta to be hanging about in…what…. was she back on the game?"

"Apparently they were acting real friendly so maybe," I reply, "His boy followed them to a hotel and checked out their names in the log in."

"And?"

"James Brent," I say, "That's the name they came up with. And apparently he attends St Joseph's school up town."

She raises her eyes brows and takes a deep breath. "That's a pretty good Catholic _private_ school."

"Yeah…bet you Daddy's money is readily available but he's not," I say, "Neglected rich kids eh? What can you do?"

She grins as we reach the car. "You're good at this," she comments. I roll my eyes.

"I'm good when I want somethin'," I say, "In this case I wanna catch a murderous, crazy perp."

She's still smiling though, "My baby's all grown up."

"Yokas," I say gazing at her across the bonnet.

"Yeah?"

"Get in the damn car."

**Notes and Summary:**

**1.** Firstly thank you all for reading and reviewing - it means a lot to me. xxx

**2. **Trying to keep in with TW although hard at times. If you think my characters are going a bit off track please say.


	13. Trying

I dial Jelly's number on my phone and press it to my ear. I decided to let Bosco drive for a while. He seemed to be getting a bit bored and I thought it best to keep him preoccupied despite the fact I lose car duties. My window is rolled down, the air breezing over me. I hold my face up thankful for the slight drop in temperature.

"What's up Yokas?" Jelly's voice says, startling me.

"Yeah. Hey Jelly, you're gonna love me and Bosco for the info we just got," I say grinning. The intrigued silence on the other end urges me to continue. "Bosco got a name and address out of Combs. A kid called James Brent."

"Well whoop-die-doo, and here's me thinkin' you were callin' to ask what type of doughnut to bring back," he responds. I roll my eyes. We both know he's impressed.

"Yeah well we're on our way to check him out now, I just thought I'd let you know," I tell him glancing towards Bosco. He catches my eye and smiles. One of his gorgeous, innocent and yet totally sexy smiles.

"Nice of you to check in on your recently-made-redundant-fellow-detective," he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Jelly, what age are you?" I snap still looking at Bosco. He however keeps his concentration on the road, manoeuvring the vehicle with ease.

"I'm followin' a few leads here too Faith, I'll call you if anything stands out," he says. I hear rustling as he looks for something on his desk.

"Hey do me a favour Jelly, run Brent's name on the computer, see if anything comes up," I ask, "There might be a ring doughnut in it for ya."

"Make it iced and you got yourself a deal."

"Iced it is. See ya later," I say, snapping down my mobile. I sigh fading into silence as I gaze out my window. Bosco doesn't need to say anything and neither do I. It feels good to just sit with him. His own window's open now, fanning my hair across my face, my sunglass preventing the wild strands from wandering into my eyes.

"I got myself a date tonight," Bosco announces. It hits me quick, catching me off guard.

"Oh," is all I can muster in reply. He has a date? When in the hell did he start dating again? He told me he wasn't ready after what had happened at the hospital.

"Yeah," he says indicating right, "Her name's Nina."

"Nina?" I repeat eyeing him. He turns sideways and smirks.

"She's hot Yokas," he informs me, "I mean Cameron Diaz/Gwen Stefani hot."

"Blonde then?" I say, frowning. He shakes his head.

"Red head."

I laugh, a little louder than intended. He looks a bit unnerved by my reaction. "What's so funny?"

"Nothin'….so what kinda treatment is this girl gonna get tonight?" I ask, holding my hair back from my face. He wags his eyebrows and I shake my head, unwittingly falling back into our usual line of conversation that we used to have before…well before everything basically.

"The first class to Bosco good lovin' treatment," he says divulging a little too much information. I cringe, scrunching my face up.

"Well you're just a regular modern day Romeo aren't you?"

"I swear Yokas. When I'm finished with this girl she'll never forget my name. She'll be screaming it most of the night."

"Well aren't you the super stud? This Nina is one lucky woman."

"She is. What most women wouldn't give to be her…"

"And you're so humble too."

"Always."

"I think I should warn this girl," I say, switching my gaze to the passing cars, "I mean what if her poor little innocent heart gets broken and I just didn't say a word? I'd feel awfully guilty."

He grins, his hands gripping the steering wheel. "Trust me. No way her heart can break. This girl is made of steel…a bit like me…"

"Ewww! Bosco!" I cry covering my ears with my hands in a pathetic attempt to block out sound.

"What Yokas? I thought you liked to talk about our sex lives? You told me about Fred often enough!" he laughs, his eyes glistening in the sunlight.

"So this is payback?" I ask.

"Damn straight. I tell you when I get doing I can really rattle a headboard…"

"No! No! No!" I repeat slapping my hands against my ears a tad over-dramatically, "Bosco I'm begging you!"

"Begging!" he says, "That's another thing I like to see women do. It's a real turn on…"

"Dear God, what have I done to deserve this?" I ask, whimpering against the window.

"I can't help it if I got skills Yokas," he chuckles, turning his head towards me. "I suppose I could show you sometime if you like."

I stop, his last comment getting to me a bit too much. He realises we're still a bit raw from our earlier…incident…and corrects himself by constricting his jaw shut and turning his head towards the windscreen. If he had said something like that some other time before I wouldn't have thought twice about it. I guess I'm still a little sensitive about what happened between us.

I sit up clearing my throat. "Radio?" I offer, my hand already making the journey to the switch. He shrugs and I flip it on, relieved that something else will break the silence.

I turn my head out the window, resting my chin in my right hand. Maybe we won't ever get passed this now. Maybe that fight will define the rest of our relationship. I really hope not.

Despite everything that's happened he's still my best friend and that means more to me than my pride. I'd rather take all the responsibility for what happened these past few months' back than continue like this. I steal a glimpse of him out the corner of my eye. His head hangs to the left in that dejected way of his. I trace the outline of his face with my eyes – his jaw contracted as he grinds down on his teeth, his eyes dilated like he's not even concentrating on the here and now. He probably isn't. He can't understand all this and I can't blame him. Every muscle in his body is flexed like he's ready to snap at any moment.

"Fred is givin' me Charlie for the weekend," I announce. He manages a nod.

"Oh yeah?" he chokes out.

"Yeah. And I was wondering. Maybe you could come over and we could go to the zoo or something. Charlie misses his Uncle Bosco," I offer. His eyes scan the road as if he's going to find the answer to my proposal out there on the street.

"We'll see yeah Faith? Things might go well with Nina," he replies. There's a constricting pain in my chest like someone's stabbing me repeatedly with a knife and because there is no one doing that, or any need for the pain, I ignore it simply putting it down to a bad hotdog from yesterday.

"Oh. Ok. Sure."

"It's not that I don't want to it's just…"

"No I understand Bosco. You don't want a family crampin' your style. I get it," I chuckle. He shakes his head, his fingers twisting around the wheel.

"That's not it at all Faith," he says, barely in a whisper, "I just think maybe since we're workin' together and all we might need a bit of time to ourselves. It's not that I don't wanna spend time with you and the kids, hell I miss 'em like crazy, but you understand where I'm coming from right?"

Silence.

"Faith?"

"Bosco, you've just passed the school," I say gulping.

He stares at me blankly. "Huh?"

"The school Bosco," I point out as he sails past.

"Fuckin' hell!" he curses, sighing.

That's exactly what I was thinking.


	14. Note From Author

_Ok, just wanted to give people some background info (should've maybe did this in the chapter where the new characters were introduced but eh…)_

Firstly the character of Tariq is not a new one (at least in my world). Faith and Bosco have seen this kid grow up etc and so, she in particular, is pretty attached. Hence the reason they went easy on him in the yard (they knew he was grieving etc…). They also knew his girlfriend (Jacinta) who died, thus leading to Faith's difficulty from being emotionally detached from this case. There's a history here that I hope you'll all go with, because hopefully it should come together in the end. Also, I'm not trying to portray Tariq and his friends as friendly, misguided youth's. They are what they are, gang members, but because Faith does have that maternal instinct and because of their history, she is sympathetic to these kids and their plight. I also think I mentioned that the reason they thought Tariq and his mates were at the school was because they were gathering up more support (for lack of a better word). Just in case you were thinking that I was trying to portray these gangland thugs and not doing a very good job, seeing as they were attending school. Teehee. ;-)

Secondly, Faith and Bosco's relationship. Again I have a plan for this one. Both are trying to get back to normal, but finding it difficult after what she said. Again there is a purpose behind why she said what she did and I'll develop that further as the story continues. He's doing his usual Bosco thing – flirting, joking etc, and I'm sure you've noticed she's not responding well to this. It's basically a contrast as to how both characters deal with an awkward situation, and in a way, a contrast of how they view their relationship at this point in time. It's going to be a bumpy ride to get them back on track and I hope you stick with me on this one!

Ok, that's all for now. I'll hopefully have a few new parts up for the weekend! Love ya all. xxx


	15. James

_Thanks to everyone who's still reviewing this one. I appreciate it, I really do. Thanks so much. xxx_

Faith walks ahead of me, confidently striding up to the school. She gets a few odd looks from schoolgirls in red plaid skirts and white blouses, but she simply smiles, nodding in acknowledgment of them. I catch up with her, falling into her step.

"I feel like I've stepped into a Britney Spears video," I say into her ear, glancing around at the teenage _underage_ girls. She laughs, but it sounds forced and perhaps a little bitter.

"I would've thought that would be any mans dream," she replies, pulling up her sunglasses as we reach the front doors. I shrug.

"I see enough uniforms in my life," I tell her. She doesn't reply. It's hard to get back to how it was. She seems really tense about it all. Almost like she can't let it go. Or she won't let it go. Either way we just feel the same as before.

I'm probably trying too hard. She seems to be ignoring what I say quite a bit now. Not that she didn't before but at least she'd make the effort to look a tiny bit interested in my elaborate stories. Maybe she's finally sick of having a young hothead with the mentality of a seventeen year old chasing around after her. And if that's the case, then who the hell else is gonna put up with me?

We're standing in the office now. She leans on the front desk, both of her arms resting on the surface as she awaits the young receptionists attention. The girl at the desk looks no older than the students, her long, red hair tied back in a professional ponytail, the skin even and pale, with the odd freckle dotted on her cheeks. Her square, black-rimmed glasses complete her face, and she's one of those people that you can't picture without the item of eyewear.

"How can I help you?" she asks, a distinct Irish brogue filtering through in her voice.

"Hi," Faith replies, "I'm Detective Faith Yokas, and this is Officer Maurice Boscorelli. We're looking to speak with one of your students. He goes by the name of James Brent."

The young girl looks startled by her request, her eyes darting around the office.

"Can I ask what it's in connection with?" she chokes out, licking her lips nervously.

"We just need to speak with him, it's a private matter," Faith tells her. The girl looks more than flustered, shuffling papers on her desk and moving items around. Faith watches her with interest as she suddenly stops, pinching the bridge between her eyes and nose.

"I just need to speak with the principal," the receptionist informs her, standing.

"You do that," Faith says, giving her a wry smile. My eyes follow the redhead into the back office. She knocks on the door, entering slowly. The man in the office puts down his phone and listens as she tells him of our visit. He looks out at us and Faith nods as she catches his gaze. He looks back at the receptionist, pausing for a moment and finally stands up, making his way out.

He moves into the reception area, graciously holding his hand out to greet us. We both shake it, introducing ourselves while exchanging pleasantries. He too looks confused by our presence, a line of sweat appearing on his dark forehead.

"How can I help you?" he says, leading us to his office. He's a big man, around six foot or so, black in colour, with dark beady eyes and a baldhead. He is emblematic of the principal profession.

"We're looking to speak with one of your students, a Mr James Brent," Faith says, standing at the foot of his mahogany desk. The man sits in his leather armchair, leaning back to meet Faith's gaze.

"Is Mr Brent in some sort of trouble?" he asks her. She smiles, despairing slightly at his reluctance to help.

"We just need to talk with James, Mr Jacobs," she replies, "I would be very grateful if you could tell me where I could find him."

He glances towards me, his eyes scrutinising my appearance. I stare back, refusing to be intimidated by him. He reminds me of my own principal, and I don't like it. _He_ had it in for me too.

"I'll call him to the office," he says, pushing the inter-com. He calls the boys name, repeating it for emphasising effect. Faith glances back at me and flashes me a quick smile, which I return. We stand there for several minutes before there is a knock on the office door. The redhead pokes her head around.

"Mr Jacobs, James is here," she informs him.

"Send him in."

A young male, standing about five foot six inches tall enters. His overgrown sandy blonde hair hides his blue eyes, while his pale skin makes him look rather sickly. His white shirt is baggy, although he is of good build, and he digs his hands into his pockets upon entry.

"Hello James," Mr Jacobs welcomes him, "These people are from the police department. They were looking to have a word with you."

Faith watches him as he shakes his hair back from his face, but still refuses to greet us in any one way. He's still assessing the situation. His eyes travel the length of Faith's body and back to her face, a smile ghosting his face.

Almost immediately I take a dislike to him. It's not that he looked at her more as it is the _way_ he looked at her. Like she was prey. And I can tell she didn't appreciate it much either. Her brow furrows and her eyes narrow, her maternal side taking over for the second time today.

"Hello," the kid says, sticking out his hand for her and then me. We both shake it and I note his firm grip. It's almost like he wants me to know the kind of authority he has. "How can I help?"

"Hi…James," Faith says forcing a smile, "I'm Detective Yokas and this is Officer Boscorelli. We were wanting to speak with you about the death of Jacinta Williams."

The boy frowns, leaning back while crossing his arms. "I'm sorry, you must have the wrong person. I don't know any Jacinta Williams."

His tone is polite but his body language is defensive and rather rude. He stares at us both, almost as if he is bothered that we interrupted him.

"Everyone knows Jacinta," I say to him, "Don't you watch the news? She was murdered just a few streets away."

"I don't watch much television," he replies, only glancing towards me for the briefest of moments. I feel like a bit of dirt that he's scraped from the bottom of his shoe, and I don't like it. He seems to have more respect for Faith than for me. He keeps eye contact with her the entire time, the odd smile forming on his face.

"But surely you've heard of her murder," Faith tries, "I mean it must be all over the school."

"I don't listen to gossip either," he tells her, his voice remaining monotone.

"The murder of a young girl is not 'gossip'," I correct him. He smiles at me, a smile that, for some reason, sends a shiver down my spine.

"You took what I said the wrong way Officer. What I meant was I do not listen to the idle chitchat that goes on in the school corridors. I prefer to busy myself with study rather than fill my time listening to concocted and over grown tales."

Faith nods slowly, looking back at me. The principal looks between us nervously.

"So you didn't know Jacinta Williams then?" she asks him. He shakes his head.

"You said she was from a few streets down? Well I do not associate with anyone from _that_ area."

Faith frowns, disgusted by his answer. "You see the thing is James…your name was in the check in book for a hotel not far from here. And guess who was seen with you that night?"

"I think that's enough Detective, unless you want to take James in for formal questioning," he interrupts, jumping to his feet. James stares at her and she simply smiles back at him.

"I might just do that," she replies, licking her lips, "But firstly, with your permission of course, I'd like to speak with some of James's classmates."

"You most certainly _do not_ have my permission to do anything of the sort," Mr Jacobs snaps at her, obviously losing his cool. She shrugs glancing back at James.

"Well that's your prerogative Mr Jacobs…I could just go get a warrant summonsing all your students to the house so we can have more of a…formal…chat," she says. I don't like the way the kid is staring at her. He's sizing her up, his eyes constantly moving to places other than her face. She seems totally unperturbed now, adjusting to his little idiosyncrasies like she has known him a lifetime.

I was right.

She _is_ good at this job.

The principal considers her for a moment, assessing just how serious she is. Eventually he sighs, submissive to her threat.

"You have one hour Detective," he tells her, "And don't be bothering my students. If they refuse to talk, they refuse to talk."

"Thank you Mr Jacobs," she breathes, "I'll be seeing you soon Mr Brent."

His eyes follow us as we leave the room and I suddenly feel protective over Faith, placing one hand on her back as we leave, all the while glaring back at the young male.

We move out through reception, the secretary eyeing us curiously.

"Stuck up little prick," Faith mutters to me as soon as we're out of earshot. I smile, her 'tuff detective routine' collapsing finally. There's the Faith I know and love.


	16. Impossible

_Thanks to everyone who is **still **reading and reviewing this! Especially jayne-190 (thank you for going back to review every chp from the start - and thanks for all the lovely things you said) and Cuddy Cabin (rock on! Teehee) and Kristen (I hope I keep it so as it still doesn't get dull)__and (how many 'ands' is that now? I've gone and used to many haven't I? That last sentnace is sooo gramatically incorrect...eh, ah well...) to anyone else who keeps reviewing this! Thanks so, so, so much! xxx_

I'm really despairing now. It's been over a half hour, we've talked to over fifteen students from James's class and each one said the same thing. That he was a quiet, reserved kid, who was both polite and gentle. I was getting sick of hearing the same thing over and over.

"How can anyone be this fucking perfect?" Bosco grumbles as he follows me down the corridor. I shrug.

"Maybe he's just a good kid," I suggest rather meekly. Bosco looks at me, his lips quirking into some sort of smile. Rolling my eyes, I let out a heavy sigh. "Ok, something's up."

"I mean not one kid has said anything remotely offensive about him Yokas. Not one," Bosco continues. I look between the youngsters in the hallway, each seem to stare back at me like I'm intruding on their personal space. I felt more at ease at Tariq's school and that's saying something.

"We've still got a few more to go," I say, my eyes scanning the faces. Bosco lets out a bitter chuckle.

"And I wonder what they're going to say? We're wasting our time here Faith," he sighs, exasperated. I swear, sometimes he gets on worse than a five year old being dragged out grocery shopping.

I stop abruptly, causing him to crash into my back. "For Gods sake Bosco! Could you please stop whining for just thirty more minutes?" I say, my voice shrill. He recoils, standing back from me. And it's worse than telling a five year old off. His eyes widen and he looks like someone's just ripped out his heart and torn in into pieces. I regret being so harsh almost immediately. "I know it seems we're going in circles but this kid has to have at least one enemy," I say, my tone softening.

He gazes back at me, and gulps, forcing a nod. "Yeah…"

"Come on," I urge pulling him by the arm up the hall. We come to the Biology lab, as a few students are packing up to leave. Most rush past but one girl in particular catches my eye. She stands at the back, collecting her things slowly, while alternately glancing up at us. I wait patiently for the rest to leave and finally break breath.

"Hi," I say smiling down at her, "I'm Detective Yokas, this is…."

"I know who you are," she cuts me off mid sentence.

"Well I don't know who you are," I reply making my way down the class.

"I'm Kaci Bosworth. One of James's classmates. My name's probably on your sheet there," she tells me pointing at the piece of paper in my hand. Instinctively I scan through the list and find her name somewhere in the middle.

"Yeah…" I say looking back at Bosco. He shrugs. "Do you mind if we talk with you?"

She continues to zip up her black backpack, hoisting it up over her slim shoulder. She's rather small and petite, with short blonde hair, layered so as it falls over her eyes and face, and huge brown eyes. "Shoot," she says, straightening her skirt.

"Do you know James?"

She laughs. Cynically.

"Everyone knows James," she replies.

"And? What do you think of him?"

"He's an egotistical, self-centred, violent shit head who's so narcissistic that it would take about five classrooms just to make room for his big fucking head."

Bosco lets out a laugh, genuinely amused by her assessment of James Brent. I throw him a withering glance and he clasps his hand over his mouth to hide the smile on his face.

She just stares at me, her confession leaving her fighting for breath.

"Well now that's in quite a contrast to what the other's have said," I reply, a little shocked by her honestly. She rolls her eyes, swiping a folder off the table.

"Let me guess? He's quiet? Polite? Sweet? Well he's not. They're only saying those things because his daddy owns the biggest fucking company in the area meaning most of _their_ daddy's are _his_ employees. You don't say anything bad about the bosses son," Kaci says, her eyebrows arched.

Bosco is still grinning at her and I can't help but smile too. She's smarter than a lot of the kids we've talked to today. She seems to know her own mind, and isn't afraid to say exactly what she's thinking. She's also not afraid of _us_.

"So…doesn't _your_ family work for Brent then?" I ask.

"My Mum worked her ass off to save for my tuition. She works down at the bank. And even if she did work for that bastards dad, I'd still have no problem telling you about him."

"Ok…but that doesn't explain why the teachers had such nice things to say."

"Ah, hello? Daddy Brent donates a lot of money to this school every year, and I don't mean the tuition fees he pays…"

I look back at Bosco, who merely shrugs. His arms are crossed with one hand up at his mouth. "So what makes you say all that stuff about him then?"

She frowns, bemused by my question. "The fact that he is all those things. Everyone knows it. It's just nobody's willing to say it."

"Except you," Bosco adds. Her gaze switches to him and she rolls her eyes again.

"You think I'm lying?"

"No…but you gotta see it from where we're standing Kaci. I mean all these kids say the same thing and you come along with a huge barrage of insults for the guy…" he says, his arms falling by his sides.

She holds up her hand, turning away from us. "Whatever. It's your bad if you don't listen to me."

"Well give us a reason to," I tell her, "Tell me something I don't know about James Brent."

"You want the truth?" she asks flinging her backpack onto the ground, "Fine. He's a big fucking bully. He hangs around with his pig-headed friends (Josh Ritter, Brendan Patterson and Mike Heaney) and they go around giving _everyone_ hell. And I don't mean things like name-calling. I mean full on violent shit. He smokes, he drinks, he's rude, he's aggressive, he's volatile, but he's also _very _smart and _very_ cunning. And even if he does get caught the teachers turn a blind eye 'cause of who he is."

I take her in, listening carefully to her rant. She only pauses to regain some composure, taking a long breath and slowly lets it out. "The other week he slammed David Lane into his locker so hard that he rendered him unconscious and he had to be taken to the hospital. Check with the nurse if you don't believe me. Although she won't tell you the real reason behind what happened. She'll probably tell you he fell or some shit like that."

"And you saw this happen?" Bosco asks her. I'm surprised to find him taking notes, his pen in hand pointing it at the notepad resting on one of the desks. He seems so…professional. I have the impulse to laugh but choke it back.

"Yeah. I was standing right beside him when he did it. He then continued to threaten me with the same thing and him and his friends stalked off down the hall."

"Must have been scary," I say. She shrugs, turning her head away.

"I'm not afraid of him," she informs me nonchalantly. I smile despite myself. We all fall into a silence as Bosco scribbles down some notes. She watches me; as if she has something else to say but just isn't sure how to say it.

"Everything ok?" I ask gently. She licks her lips, averting her gaze to the ceiling.

"I just…I heard why you're here…. is it true…is it true he killed that girl?" she asks.

"We just want to ask him a few questions about it," Bosco cuts in without looking up.

"So…why are you asking us about what we think of him?"

"We're just furthering our enquires. Following a few leads," he replies flashing her a quick smile, "There's nothing to be scared of."

"Like I said…I'm not afraid of him…." she repeats staring at Bosco.

"Well that's all we need for now Kaci," I say, nodding at her, "Thanks for your help."

We both turn to leave. "If you asked me if I thought he had killed that girl….I would probably said yeah. Without a doubt…"

I crane my neck around to look at her. She stands by the desk, for the first time since I first laid eyes on her, looking vulnerable. I force a smile.

"This conversation, as far as we're concerned, doesn't leave this room," I tell her, "Ok?"

She nods, smiling back. "Ok. Thank you."

We both leave, Bosco leaning down to my ear to talk to me. His breath laps against my neck and suddenly I feel a tiny bit flustered. "You think she's tellin' the truth? Or is she an ex-girlfriend scorned?"

"You met James Brent right?" I retort, "What do you think?"

He must stop to consider it for a moment because I hear him sprint up behind me to catch up.


	17. Games

I watch from outside the office as, inside, Faith follows Jelly around his desk, trying to convince him to let her bring James in for questioning. He doesn't seem to be listening to her, busying himself with other tasks as she speaks. She however is oblivious to his lack of interest and persists in showing the files and notes we took from speaking with Kaci. After what seems like a long while, he turns to her and simply nods, as if all her tactics of persuasion had gone to waste, because he was going to agree to take James in anyway.

She looks rather confused, glancing out at me and then back at Jelly. Eventually she too nods and backs out of the office, reluctant to take her eyes away from him in case he's trying to play some sort of practical joke on her. She exits quietly, standing in the doorway, biting down on her lip.

I approach her, hands on my hips. "So?" I ask. As if I need to.

"Yeah…um…he agreed." She's still frowning though.

"So what's wrong?" I ask.

"Nothing I guess…it's just Jelly usually requires a lot more than just another kids word before he starts bringing people in…" she drags off, squinting at the floor.

"Maybe he trusts you and your judgement," I suggest. She snorts, letting out a chuckle.

"Maybe," she echoes, her eyebrows arched.

"So we gonna bring him in tonight?" I ask. She looks startled by my suggestion and her jaw hangs open as she searches for a reply.

"I uh…" she stutters, "Um, it's kinda late don't ya think?"

I glance down at my watch and frown when I realise it's only seven thirty.

"Come on Yokas, we've worked a lot later than this before," I chuckle. She shifts on the balls of her feet, glancing nervously to the side.

"Yeah, but you know it's late to be callin' in a suspect…" she drags off staring at the floor. It's then it hits me. She doesn't want to stay here any longer. She wants to leave. Immediately I think it's my fault. She wants rid of me. She can't stand to be around me any longer. I can't say I'm surprised. Today was exactly all fun and candy.

"You got somewhere you need to be Yokas?" I ask, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. She shrugs and then shakes her head.

"No…not really…just thought we could go home early. Rest up for tomorrow. It'll be a long day." She's lying straight through her teeth and she knows I know it.

"I suppose I could go for a swim, work off some of the extra tension," I say, too tired to find out the truth. And plus I actually want to go swimming. The cold water might do me some good…

She scowls, rolling her eyes. "You know you can't go on your own. What if you were to get a cramp?"

"Stop worryin' about me Mommy," I tease, "I'll be fine."

Before she can respond someone calls her name, and for some reason she closes her eyes, refusing to turn around. A middle-aged guy sprints up the steps to where we stand. He's of reasonable build, a bit taller than me, with fading hair. She turns to him and smiles.

"Hey John," she says. John? John who?

"Hey, just checkin' we're still on for tonight?" he says, panting a little. She doesn't reply, just turns to me and then looks back at him.

"Hi," he says, nodding in my direction. I return the acknowledgment, with my own 'manly' head nod.

"Oh, ah, Bosco, this is John Miller, John this is Maurice Boscorelli," she introduces us. We shake hands and I evaluate him from a distance. For some reason I consider this guy a threat and put up my defensive. No smiles for him, no eye contact for her.

"Bosco, of course," he says looking down at her, "I've heard a lot about you."

"Weird…I haven't heard anything about you," I reply, faking a smile. I'm not sure how either of them takes it. He looks mildly offended, while she just looks plain angry.

"You've gotta excuse Bosco. He's like a bear with a sore head when he doesn't get to have dinner," she explains. Both laugh and I stare at him. To be honest I hadn't even realised I'd missed dinner. Time seemed to go pretty fast today.

"So I'll pick you up at nine?" he asks her. She nods, grinning. "Ok, see you later then. It was nice meeting you Bosco."

Again I feign another quick smile as he backs away from her, smiling like the frickin' cat whose got the cream. She watches him go, maintaining eye contact the entire time. She must forget I'm still here because she waits until he's out the doors before slowly turning back to me, swooning like a sixteen year old.

She meets my gaze and her brow furrows. "Couldn't you have made more of an effort there? Did you_ have _to be yourself?" she snaps. I stand back, shocked by her accusation that I didn't try. I was trying. So hard it was killing me.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry I'm not good enough to meet your detective boyfriend!" I chuckle, incredulously. She shakes her head.

"You know that's not what that was about."

"Isn't it? Why didn't you tell me about your date with him? Why'd you lie about goin' home early?"

"Because…I thought…after everything…" she stammers, averting her gaze to the wall behind me.

"Bullshit Faith. You thought I wasn't good enough to meet him. You thought I'd embarrass you by sayin' or doin' somethin' stupid! Well news flash little-miss-I-love myself! I couldn't care less if you were dating the devil himself. So you don't have to worry about me meetin' the guys you see. 'Cause I won't be meetin' anymore of them."

And with that lovely parting goodbye, I'm storming out the doors, not giving her much time to catch her breath, let alone respond. I let out a loud groan as I escape into the night air, running my fingers through my hair, pulling at the roots. She is the only woman in the world who has this effect on me. And momentarily I wonder why.

I'm so angry with her I can't see straight. I want to shake her, I want to hurt her, I want to scream at her.

Suddenly I see John by, what I presume is his car, struggling with the keys and files. I see an opportunity to cause trouble and I take it.

"Hey Miller! You need some help man?" I ask, trotting towards him. He looks confused by my offer, and I don't give him time to refuse my help as I take the files out of his grasp.

"Uh, thanks," he says, obviously baffled. He unlocks the car and I throw the files into the passenger seat. "I got the feelin' you didn't like me very much in the house."

I look at him and shrug.

"Were you just being protective of Faith?" he asks. I grin inwardly, the little devil on my shoulder out talking my angel.

"Well…um…to be honest John I was shocked to see her going out again you know…after all the rest of them…"

He looks perplexed and I stop. "I shouldn't be telling you this…maybe she's changed…"

"Why? What's up with the last men she dated?"

Bingo.

"Nothin'. It's just…. well after Fred and her split up she kinda went a bit off the rails. She's dated nearly every single man in the precinct including the fire-fighters…it's like she's a woman on a mission…makin' up for lost time…"

I trail off, glancing up to see if it's working. He's now staring into space listening to my elaborate stories.

"Well in the end up she was made see a sex therapist or somethin' for her addiction…I'm sure she's fine now though."

"I didn't hear any of this from the guys at the house," he states, doubting me. I try my best to look offended.

"You wouldn't would ya? We've all been told not to talk about the…incident…ever again. After she tried it on with Lieu…"

"Swersky? She tried it on with him?" he asks, disbelieving.

"Yeah…it was awful. It was like some sorta post divorce thing. Poor Faith…"

"But she seems really normal. In fact it took me ages to persuade her to go out with me," he says, narrowing his eyes.

"Of course it did. She's afraid to be de-railed now she's doin' so well…I'm sorry, I shouldn't be tellin' ya all this."

"No it's ok man. Did she…uh…did you and her…." He looks up awkwardly and I fake innocence.

"Did we?"

"You know…sleep together?"

I stifle a laugh. This is too good even for me. And it's totally lost on me how a man as intelligent as Miller would buy into this so easily. Especially after meeting good old level headed Faith.

"No. Not for lack of tryin' on her part though. As soon I was out of that coma she was like a dog in heat… all over me in that hospital bed…lets just say she'd make an interesting nurse, with her own special way of getting ya better if you know what I mean."

He looks like he's about to choke on something and it's taking all my willpower not to laugh. Suddenly a noise from the other side of the street catches his attention and we both look over. Faith stands on the sidewalk and upon noting John's presence puts on her best butter-wouldn't-melt smile and waves sweetly. He can barely respond sticking his hand up in some sort of lame gesture. I press my lips together suppressing the smile that's threatening to form.

She however is none the wiser and climbs into a waiting cab. He turns back to me as if still assessing my claims. I merely shrug.

"She seems to like you best man."

He's literally speechless, mumbling a goodbye as he too disappears into his car, pulling away sharply from the sidewalk.

I grin rubbing my hands together. Satisfied by my own evil doings I head off to the pool to let off any remaining steam.


	18. Silver Rain Fell

There's something wrong. I can tell. John keeps looking at me funny and everytime I try to catch his eye he turns away. He's been quiet since he picked me up – he was late and he didn't even apologise. Maybe I was wrong about him being a nice guy. Maybe he's a jerk like every other male on this planet.

I feel like I should say something. Anything. This isn't the most pleasant date I've been on – then again I haven't been on many dates. Maybe this awkward stage is something everyone endures. I tell you Bosco makes it sound so easy.

Bosco. I'm still not sure why he was so angry earlier. But maybe he had been right. Maybe I was ashamed to introduce him to John. I was worried he might say or do something stupid. I feel sometimes like his mother. And I certainly don't want to feel that way. Not after the things I suggested we do…

I want to put it all behind us but that's looking increasingly impossible, especially if his behaviour earlier was anything to go by. I shift uncomfortably in my seat; the dress Emily has chosen not exactly being the most practical of garments.

Pretty? Yes.

Sexy? Yes.

Comfortable? No.

Plus these high heels are hell to walk in.

"More wine?" he asks suddenly, the bottle poised over my glass. I nod, nearly choking on my food.

"Yes, thank you," I cough. He pours me a fair amount into my glass, and then turns to his own. I'm surprised when he fills it right to the rim, the liquid threatening to overspill onto the fancy white table cloth, hanging over the dark mahogany table of this rather posh restaurant. He flashes me a quick smile and then downs most of the contents.

I simply hold my glass to my lips wondering what the hell I'm doing on a date with this madman. I then decide if I'm going to go through with this I may as well go tipsy and I too take a large gulp of the alcoholic substance.

"I have never been out to a place as nice as this," I state, tucking a strand of my (now poker straight thanks to Emily and her tongs) hair behind my ear.

"Yeah…uh…I used to come here quite a bit," he responds. "Stopped after…"

I wonder how he was going to continue that sentence, but the look in his eyes tells me it's better not to ask.

"It's nice," I repeat. Jesus I'm beginning to sound like a frickin' parrot. Ok, keep talking Faith, just instigate conversation. "I don't really go out much so I don't know what restaurants are like. The only place I know is Burger King…"

I laugh, but stop as I notice him raise an eyebrow and take another swig of his drink. Ok something's definitely up here…

"John can I ask you something?" I ask, raising my glass to my lips. He shrugs, his fork playing with his food. I roll my eyes – he's worse than Bosco. "Is everything ok?"

"I dunno Faith, why don't you tell me?" he snapped quietly. Ok, what the hell!

"Excuse me?"

"Why didn't you tell me about your little 'problem'?" he asks, his voice low. He glances around as if someone is going to hear him.

"What problem?" I ask, wrinkling my nose.

"I can't believe you. You've been lying to me all night. All this time. Bosco told me!"

I stop, my jaw contracting. "What_ exactly_ did Bosco tell you?"

"About your sex addiction!"

I must have been drinking without even realising it because upon hearing his response I splutter red wine out of my mouth and it dribbles down onto my chest. Smooth Faith, real smooth.

"He what?" I say, incredulous, dabbing my skin with a serviette.

John looks nervous now; the look in my eyes must be one of sheer rage. "He told me about the…your addiction…the therapist…"

I sit back, crossing my arms, my toe tapping off the floor.

"There's no addiction is there?" he says after a lengthy pause. I shake my head, still debating whether I should kill John or Bosco first. John because he believed Bosco's childish tale, or Bosco because he made up the stupid story in the first place. "I'm sorry Faith."

In the end I choose Bosco, if I'm honest, feeling a bit sorry for John. He sat here all night with me thinking I was some sex-crazed maniac. He could've cancelled but he didn't – he gave me a chance. And in some sick, twisted, way I find that charming.

"Can we start over?" he asks, looking very embarrassed, "I really wanna start over."

"Yes," I reply, "But not tonight. I think I've had enough tonight. I'm tired. Plus I really wanna go kick Boscorelli's ass."

He nods and I let out a long breath. "It's ok John. I understand why you'd believe him. He can be pretty convincing at times."

"Yeah but I should've asked you, I'm sorry," he apologises. I reach over and squeeze his hand on the tabletop.

"It's ok. Really. I'm just tired."

"I'll give you a lift then," he offers, jumping up for the bill. I pull him back down, smiling.

"It's ok. I'll get a cab, but thank you, I'd love to say it was a lovely evening…"

"I understand. Can we…can we do this again…I mean properly?" he asks, smiling across the table at me.

"Of course we can, I'll see you at work tomorrow ok?"

I move over to where he sits and place a kiss on his cheek.

With that I'm gone, flagging down the quickest taxi I can get. I tell him where I want to go and he speeds off. I'm pretty sure I should arrest him for speeds like this, but tonight I don't really care about anything other than getting to Bosco and killing him with my bare hands. Preferably hitting him with a big stick too.

We pull up to the leisure complex and I hand him a handful of notes. He can barely speak English but I can make out a Spanish thanks as he realises I've given him way too much money.

I walk purposely forward inside the huge building. I know this place better than I know home, the winding corridors not a deterrent for my speed. These heels are though. The black shoes slow me down, as does the long flowing dress. It has two huge splits up either side of the rather see-through light blue and green fabric, and is held in the middle by a large leather belt. The plunging v neckline is pulled back in a corset style closing at the back and the black fish neck tights itch like hell. I'm never letting Emily dress me again.

_Ever_.

I walk into the pool section, huge windows separating me from the modern pool complex. The place is deserted – the time of night obviously being a factor. I walk inside my heels clicking off the black marble tiles on the floor. Huge windows open out the pool to the world, the black night sky visible. Soft lighting on the walls beams across the pool, the water reflecting the spotlights on the ceiling.

Bosco is so far unaware of my presence and swims with ease up the pool. I sometimes envy his athletic skills – he does everything with such grace and agility that I could never match. His muscular arms occasionally rise above the water, pulling him forward. He reaches the top and flips underneath the water, using his legs as leverage to propel him into his next length.

I can't take it anymore. Finally losing my temper, I reach for a floaty that sits stacked up by the pools edge and throw it at him. I have perfect aim because it hits him bang on the head. He pulls back, shocked. His head bobs up to the surface and he rubs his hands over his dripping wet face as he pulls off his goggles.

"You bastard!" I scream, picking up another floaty. This time I'm just blind with anger and chuck them one after the other in the general direction of his body. Each hits him and he tries to shield his face with his arms.

"Fai- Jesus-ow! Faith!" he says, trying to move forward while alternately forming a defensive shied with his hands.

"I hate you! I hate you!" I screech. Realising I'm out of ammo I look down at my feet and the little devils that have been killing me all night. Maybe they did have a use after all. I removed my left shoe and Bosco's face was one of sheer horror as he realised what I was considering. I hold it up it the air, poised to throw.

He holds up the palm of his hand. "Faith! Stop!" he shouts, cautiously floating forward.

"Give me one good reason why I should?" I hiss, still wielding my shoe like a weapon.

"Because if you throw that thing and it kills me you're gonna regret it," he says, his tone soft.

"I doubt it," I say raising it higher.

"You'll doubt it because you'll never get to scream at me for whatever it is I'm meant to have done," he says. I stop, my hand falling by my side.

"What you're meant to have done? You know rightly what you've done, you lying little prick!" I yell.

"Ok, calm down and tell me exactly what's up."

"You! You told Miller that I was some sort of sexed crazed animal! You made me look like a fool! You wrecked my date! You wrecked my evening!"

He gives me one of those lopsided grins, and I frown. "And you don't care do you? You don't care that tonight was special to me?"

He snorts derisively, glancing to the side and then back at me. "Special? Faith you barely knew this guy!"

"No! He wasn't special. Tonight was! Tonight was about me gaining confidence! This was my first date since the divorce. It took me a long time to get to this point. And you destroyed it…"

The air is heavy, the poignant smell of chlorine filling my nostrils. I feel warm, the lights beaming down on me.

He swims up to the edge, resting both arms up on the bars. He looks up at me, his gaze distant.

"I'm sorry," he says eventually, "I didn't mean to do that."

I fold my arms across my chest and shake my head, looking away.

"But you did."

"I know. And I'm sorry. I was just really pissed that you were embarrassed of me. I wanted to hurt you. It was cruel…I see that now. Jeez Faith, it was meant to be a joke…I never imagined…"

"You really hurt me Bosco," I whisper, closing my eyes.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry."

"It's not good enough!" I say, raising my voice as I find my anger building up once more. Water drips from his tanned skin, cascading down his face, hitting his shoulders.

He gestures outwards, the water surrounding him rippling around the contours of his masculine body. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know! What I really want is for you to grow up!" I bark.

"No you don't. You like me this way 'cause it makes you feel superior!" he sneers. "You like the fact I make mistakes so you can point them out and make me feel like a nothing."

"Bosco I couldn't care less about how you feel, especially right now."

"Really? Well-" Suddenly he doubles over, clutching his side. He lets out a groan and my anger is replaced with overwhelming concern.

"Bosco!" I call out rushing to the edge of the pool. I hold out my hand for his arm, trying to pull him to me. He grips my forearm and suddenly I realise that his grip is too strong for someone who is meant to be in crippling agony.

I look at his face only to see him giving me a crooked smile.

"Don't you dare," I say, my voice barely a whisper. He arches his eyebrows, tugging gently on my arm. I feel myself lose my already precarious balance and stumble head first into the pool. I hit the water with a splash, sinking to the bottom.

I hear his laugh echo under the water, and I struggle in the material of the dress to reach the surface. My head pops up from the water and I gasp from breath, my hair sticking to my face and eyes. The pool water is deep; my feet nowhere near the floor. I splash around to keep myself above water, shocked that he would pull such a stunt when I was so livid. My eyes are still closed as I try to wipe my hair away from my face. Suddenly I feel his body next to mine, his heavy hands resting on my shoulders.

I'm going to kill him if he's about to do what I think he's considering. And I'm right. I feel pressure on my body as I sink back under the water, Bosco holding me down for several seconds and then pulling me back up.

I splutter as I reach the surface, my hands flying out to hit him. He chuckles, tackling me, sending me crashing backwards. Before I realise it I'm floating safely above the waters surface, alone. I wipe water from my face and spin around, my eyes searching for Bosco.

"Bosco?" I call out, pushing my hair back, "Maurice Louis Boscorelli where the hell are you?"

I feel a body under mine, Bosco positioning himself between my legs. He rests my entire body on his shoulders as he pushes up, scrambling to his feet. He holds onto my knees, securing me in place. The top half of my body is totally out of the water, the area below my knees still beneath the surface.

"Bosco!" I cry out, laughing despite my best efforts, "Put me down you jackass!"

"Make me," he challenges, jumping up and down in the water. I clasp my hands over his eyes in retaliation, but this only fuels his childish behaviour as he begins to rotate in circular motions, gaining speed with each turn.

"Bosco I'm gonna fall!" I scream. And with that he loses his balance, sending us both crashing forward, back into the water. It hits me hard, stinging my skin. I somersault under the water, turning so I can make my way back up. I feel a hand tug on my ankle pulling me back down, as Bosco overtakes me, pushing himself to the surface. I follow gasping for air.

He's laughing like a maniac, shaking beads of water from his dark hair. Pulling back my own hair I try to stifle a giggle, but end up letting it out, meeting his expressive gaze.

"Gotcha to laugh," he teases splashing me with water. I return the gesture, unable to hold back my smile.

"You got me very wet!"

"I'm sure I did, but that's a whole different matter," he laughs. I roll my eyes, turning away from his as I swim to the edge. The water gushes around me as I pull against the bars, pushing myself up and clear out of the pool. Water seeps from my body, dripping onto the polished tiles. Wringing out my hair I turn to face him, and realise he's staring at me from below.

"What?" I ask cautiously. He grins and indicates down at my dress. I follow his gaze and curse as I realise deciding not to wear a bra with a see through dress was not the best idea in the world. I cross my arms awkwardly across my chest.

"Stop staring you perv!" I cry out, upset. He's laughing, hard, swimming up to the edge. "You'd better have something for me to change into."

I bend down to take off my other shoe chucking in his direction, knowing it would miss him. He dodges anyway just for safe measure and I trudge off towards the men's changing rooms, my soaked dress trailing behind me.


	19. Clarity

I drove her home in silence. Somehow in the middle of her outburst she'd remembered that she had in fact run out of cash and needed a ride home. I think that's what amused me the most all night. Watching her squirm as she plucked up the courage to ask me for a lift home.

Of course she did with a string of 'I don't need your help's', but I liked the fact I had the upper hand. But what I also liked about tonight was the way for just a few minutes she let go of herself. I caught a brief glimpse of the old Faith again – the one who's not always on guard. Of course she was literally pushed into enjoying herself. But putting that aside she really did have fun.

I think.

She was obviously still mad at me. She made a point of sitting on the passenger's side, her body turned towards the door, her arms crossed, her eyes staring out into the dead night. She didn't speak a word as I drove towards her apartment. I had turned up the heater to keep her warm. She had refused my offer of some dry shorts and t-shirt and instead decided to wring out her dress as best she could and use my jacket to retain some body heat.

For some strange reason I don't really feel at ease with that decision. I find myself contemplating health issues that may challenge her later – flu's, colds, even pneumonia. It's a bit stupid really – my head is telling me it's only a bit of water and she'll warm up as soon as she gets home. But my worries and anxieties don't fade with this assurance. I see her shiver and am immediately concerned.

"You ok?" I ask, keeping my eyes trained to the road ahead.

"I'm fine," she replies. Her response lacks any real emotion. To be honest she sounded a bit like a computer or machine of some sort. Churning out words like products.

I put on my best 'I don't care anyway' expression and shrug. "Just asking."

"And I just answered," she gritted through her teeth. Choosing to be the bigger person I ignore her response, instead taking my frustration out on the steering wheel, my fingers curling tightly around the soft leather.

"How could you do that to me?" she murmurs suddenly. I glance in her direction, only to find her gaze is firmly locked on my face. Quickly I turn my eyes back to the road.

"It was just a joke, a bit of fun to make you chill," I reply.

"I didn't mean the pool," she states. I can still feel her eyes on me, boring holes into the side of my face.

"Faith…what I said to Miller was just a joke that he apparently took seriously…I didn't mean for it to annoy you," I explain. She sighs, muttering something under her breath. "Honest to God. If I'd of known you'd take it to heart…"

"Lets forget about yeah?" she interrupts switching her gaze to the window. I nod, both of us falling into an eerie silence.

"So…we ok?" I ask nonchalantly.

"Do you know that's like the tenth time you've asked me that in the past three days?" she retorts. I shift in my seat, clearing my throat.

"Well maybe that's 'cause in the past few days a pile of shit has happen which is makin' me think we're not ok," I say. She rolls her eyes.

"What's with all the drama Bos? I mean really? What have we got to be so awkward about? This is us…me and you…we've always been cool," she says, running her fingers across her forehead.

"Exactly Faith. This is us. For the past few month's this has been us. All we do is fight, then get awkward about it, then fight some more…"

"But why Bosco? What happened to us just chillin' together? What happened to us being able to grab a drink together and not thinkin' twice about it? Why does every conversation we have turn into some sort of argument?"

"Maybe we're stuck in limbo…" I mutter, apparently not as inaudibly as I thought. She frowns, turning fully around in her seat.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Faith," I gasp exasperated by her curiosity, "Can we just leave it?"

"No…what did you mean 'stuck in limbo'? How can we be stuck? We've always been friends…that's it. Are you saying we've been stuck together and now it's time we move on? Forget about each other?" she questions, bewildered by my statement.

"No. That's not what I meant. And no…we haven't always been stuck. We grew together…became good friends…we saw each other through some rough shit…what I'm saying is maybe this is it. This is it for the whole friendship thing…we've come to this like point in our relationship and we've been at it a while…maybe we're just getting frustrated because neither of us can move it along…"

"Move it along…" she repeats, shaking her head, "So you do want us to forget our friendship."

"No…that's not what I meant," I stammer, gesturing out, as if that in some way will underline my point.

"Well then what do you mean Bos? 'Cause right now I can't understand a word you're sayin'."

"I don't know…I don't know what I'm sayin'…lets just leave it."

"No. We can't just leave it. What'd you mean by 'move it along'? Are we just gonna move on? Forget the whole thing?"

"No that's not what I want at all!" I shout.

"The what do you want?" she yells back, anger seething in her tone.

"You!" I scream back, turning my head swiftly towards her and then back to the window, "I want you ok?"

"Want me?" she stutters timidly, "I don't understand…"

Realising honesty may not have been the best idea under the circumstances I recoil, thinking quickly of something that will fix the situation.

"I want you back as a partner," I tell her, "I can't work with anyone else."

There's a silence and I look over to see if she's still alive. She is, and she's looking more confused than ever.

"Bosco…I understand you're goin' through a tough time right now…but me workin' with you again won't solve anything…you need to go off on your own now. It's time."

"I know…" I sigh, clenching my eyes shut, "Just sometimes…I want it back you know? Me and you. 55 David. I want it all back. And I know that's weak…"

"It's not weak," she cuts in, her tone soft, "It's completely understandable. It's hard to adjust. It took me ages to get used to work without you."

"Really?"

"Really. And I'm still not sure I am…sometimes I just want you there. Just to make it easier. But life isn't easy Bos. It's shitty…and it's long and it's hard…this is gonna be a tough test. But if we survive this we can survive anything."

"Well so far we're not exactly succeeding," I chuckle. She nods, finding it hard to laugh with me.

"Bosco we're tryin' desperately to cling to each other…trying everything…and I mean everything, to keep a bit of history with us. And that's stupid because we're so close now. Closer than ever before. All this stuff…it's made you my best friend. The only person in this world I can truly trust."

"Seriously?" I asked, shocked by her emission. She smiles.

"Yeah. And Bosco…I want you to know I have such faith in you. All I want is for you to do well. And I am here if you need me…nobody will change that. Not Jelly, not Miller, not anyone. I promise."

With that she reaches over and places her hand over mine that lies in the seat between us. My other hand keeps its firm hold of the wheel, but I feel my eyes travel down to where we join on the seat. She runs her thumb over my skin, her grasp tightening.

I look back up at her face and I'm greeted with a warm, strangely comforting smile. And I know after this we will be ok. Even if what I meant wasn't exactly said. This will do. Because she is happy. And that is all I want.


End file.
